Crossfire
by Emmithar
Summary: When two members of the gang end up in danger, Robin must learn to trust a recent traitor in order to save them, and himself as well.
1. Chapter 1

**Crossfire**

**By: **Emmithar

**Rating: **T

**Disclaimer: **Sadly we do not own anything recognizable. We will return them when we are done borrowing them ;)

**Summary: **When two members of the gang end up in danger, Robin must learn to trust a recent traitor in order to save them, and himself as well.

**Notes: **Written with Kegel for the Big Bang Challenge. The story takes place shortly after 2x05 (Ducking and Diving), and could be considered AU. Many thanks to our beta neaptidea :)

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**Prologue **

This was the kind of weather that made one wish they were inside. And while the storm had set in with frenzy, it did not mean that work could be put off because of it. The old man had been on the roads for the last few weeks now, setting up camp in shelters under trees when he deemed it safe enough, or even buying his way into an inn despite the fact that it cost him nearly half of his earnings gained on the trip itself. Now that he was nearing his home village, he felt a bit of hopeful warmth return, as if something was telling him that things would be alright once he was back inside his familiar house. It would be dry, too.

Ahead, the night sky was lit up by lightning, the storm coming shortly after the skies opened up. The rain was heavy, thick drops falling that quickly soaked the land and anyone below. Most everyone was inside sleeping by now, and the traveler knew that he would most likely be the only one awake, let alone outside in this miserable weather. He could have stayed the night in Sherwood, but the lore of Robin Hood and his men was enough encouragement to keep him moving.

It wasn't that he was afraid of the man. Robin had once been the rightful Lord of the Manor, and as far as he was concerned, Robin was only doing what he felt was necessary. But the old man also knew that anyone who crossed through the forest was fair game, and he wasn't particularly fond of letting go of his fortune, however small it might be. He would be considered rich by some, but he himself considered to be poor enough, what with little money he had.

So it was with relief that he entered the village, the mule pulling the cart up alongside the familiar barn as the man coaxed him to a stop. With a hood pulled over his head to help shelter him from the onslaught of rain, the old man unhitched the animal, leading him around the back to where the pasture was. No doubt the creature was just as happy as he to be on home turf.

It was the smell that first alerted him, the way the mule began to dance nervously near him as they came to a stop. He brushed a worn, old hand against the animal's neck, trying to calm him as he turned in his spot, trying to see what all the commotion was about. In another burst of lightning the skies lit up long enough for the briefest glimpse of the quiet village. And shortly after, it wasn't so quiet anymore.

There were screams, cries of alarms that sent the mule into a near panic. Quickly the old man urged the animal into the pen, allowing it to run free as he locked the gate before turning back to the commotion at hand. Some of the other villagers had heard the cries, had seen the flames, and were already trying to help.

Despite the rain, the fire burned fiercely, feeding eagerly on the thatching of the roof and bringing to the night a foreign glow. He moved over, trying to offer help where he could, but his bones were old with aches and pains, and his muscles lacked the strength to carry water from the lake in pails. Not only that, but his old mind told him that if the rain could not stop this blaze, then a few measly bucketfuls of water would not either.

The frame was already beginning to collapse and panicked worries that there were still people inside began to fill the air. This was even more confirmed as the door burst open and a man fell out onto the muddied ground with heavy coughs. A few men sprang in to help him to his feet, but the newcomer shook them off angrily, turning back to the house.

"My wife, my daughter!" he called out, his voice hardly heard above the crack of thunder. He was about to dash back inside, but others stopped him from doing so. It was far too late to help them; if they were not gone already, then they soon would be, and if the husband ran back in, he would perish just the same.

There were more shouts just then, fingers pointing to which he turned, catching the fleeting glimpse of the figure that ran for the woods. The sky lit up again, allowing a better look, and he could feel his heart skip a beat as he saw the man turn back for one final look before slipping into the woods. That was a face he knew. The man had grown up here, but recently had gone to live in the forest with another. No one had suspected that he would bring any sort of harm. But then it wasn't the first time the old man had been wrong about something.

And with the father's wailing consuming the night, he too felt a heaviness in his heart. For he had once been friends with the Scarlett family, had once considered Dan's boys to be his own. And he could not believe that Will could be responsible for this.

But he had seen what he had seen, and there was no arguing with that.

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**Chapter 1**

The rain was falling heavily and although he could not see it in the darkness of the night, it was only the rich canopy of leaves of the trees that were growing up into the sky over Sherwood Forest that protected him from getting soaked as well.

Robin had moved out of the camp, sitting now and listening to the sounds of the rain and the wind rustling trees within the forest, the groaning sounds of thunder that were quickly disappearing into the distance. He had been too restless to sleep any longer, despite the fact that there was still some time till the sun would show its first shine in the morning. It seemed it would be a dismal day at any rate.

His wasn't the only bed empty tonight. There were two others, along with his, both which told the tell-tale signs that someone _had_ been there recently. The first belonged to man named Allan-a-Dale, who had recently thrown his lot in with Gisborne. It was discovered a short time ago that he had been feeding information to their enemy, betraying them all. Robin had banished him, and it hadn't taken long to see the man strutting about the castle, announcing himself as Sir Guy's man. This was beginning to become a bothersome burden, leaving Robin to wonder if he should have taken more serious means with the man.

The other bed that was empty belonged to another man. Will Scarlett was nowhere to be seen. Robin had a feeling that this was not the first night the man had disappeared without telling anyone. It would not be a surprise if it were had recently lost his father, Dan Scarlett, and Robin knew that the man was struggling to come to terms with what had happened, no matter how the man claimed that he was fine. Will still blamed himself for his father's death, and that grief was not easy to overcome.

Robin wasn't too worried. If Will was leaving in the night, then he never was gone for long. He was back in the mornings without any noticeable trace he had been gone. It was only due to his own restlessness that Robin happened to even notice the man's disappearance tonight. The real question on his mind was to where Will had gone. At night, in weather like this… surely there were not too many places a man could go. Not as an outlaw, anyway.

As the morning drew closer the rain lightened, and it was in the shine of the early morning sun that Robin could see a figure making its way through the forest to the camp. There was no alarm as Robin easily recognized him, and he smiled at seeing him return.

The storm had not been kind to him it seemed. Will's tunic was soaked, moisture also still clinging in his hair, tell tale signs of him having wandered outside as the rain shower lay over the forest.

"Where have you been?" Robin greeted him, and the other startled slightly, apparently not having paid attention to the man sitting outside the camp, somewhat obscured by the bushes around them.

"Robin," Will returned, letting out a breath, dropping his arms. The bandage was easy to see, even in the morning light, and Robin found himself moving to his feet, indicating towards the other.

"What happened?" he questioned, stretching muscles that had been cramped for far too long.

"It's nothing," Will said frowning, lifting and looking at his hand as if he had noticed the injury just now. "A small burn, that's all."

"Where have you been?"

"Nowhere really."

Robin took the explanation lightly, and nodded.

"I'd change into something else, if I were you," he suggested, indicating Will's wet clothes. The man nodded, already moving into the camp as Robin followed. Others were already waking, Much stumbled from his bed muttering as he wandered across the small room to started cooking. A warm breakfast, especially on a morning like this, was a welcoming thought.

Robin too, changed into something dry, draping his cloak and damp shirt over a post near the fire. They would all have a busy day before them. Taxes had been collected the day before, and without doubt there would be hungry villagers to feed. Usually this was no burden, but with Allan's betrayal, they found their group skewed.

Before, they had gone in three groups, (splitting up and delivering goods and small satchels of coins to each of the villages. Now that could no longer be done, Robin forbidding any of them to travel alone. Safety came in numbers, and Robin did not want to think of what would happen if any of them were to be caught alone.

He took the plate that was offered, chewing slowly as he sat, eyeing the bags in the corner and tried to decide how things were to be done.

"John, you take Djaq and Will, and bring the supplies to Clun and Nettlestone. Much and I will take some shares to Locksley and the surrounding villages. We'll meet up back at camp tonight, and head to Nottingham together in the morning."

"What if Allan tells them we are coming?"

He met Djaq's gaze with a frown. He had forgotten about Allan. The man Allan knew they would be coming today. For a time Robin had tried to avoid falling into routine, but it could hardly be helped. People could not choose when to go hungry or penniless, not with the sheriff raking his hands through the very blood and sweat of the populace. He chewed the rest of his food, swallowing hastily before washing it down with a drink from his flask.

"We'll deal with that when we get there," he answered, setting the plate down. Allan might know that they were coming, most likely would warn Gisborne and the sheriff as well. But the man would not know how they were coming. They had to be careful, devise a new plan even. Or cause a distraction. It was the start of the plan.

"Well, if there is another storm like there was last night, Allan will be the least of our worries,"? Much remarked from across the camp. "I'm sure I'm not the only one who heard the thunder. You do know that is how forest fires start, right?"

"Much," Robin let out a sigh. "That is not going to happen."

"Remind me about that when we're being roasted alive."

He let out a grin, shaking his head. The storm had been fierce, but those were not common. It would be some time before they saw one again, he believed. Robin moved to his feet, grabbing his jerkin and pulling it over his head.

"The sooner we get going, the quicker we'll be able to return," Robin encouraged them. While the chances of another lightning storm were slim, the sky still did not seem so favorable. And running amuck in foul weather would not do them any favors, he presumed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to those who reviewed! Onto Chapter Two**

**Thanks to Neaptidea for the beta :)**

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**Chapter Two**

The ground was still wet when they made their way to the village. Robin could see the places where the water had washed out the ground, small trickles of water still running along here and there. He was treading carefully through the forest, Much following behind. They were in no particular haste, Locksley being the closest village to the camp and the planned meeting with the others still hours ahead.

Robin didn't worry that Allan would turn up at Locksley either, no matter that he could know they were coming. He just didn't think the man would dare to show his face.

The sun was just coming out from behind the clouds in the sky, given them hope that no further storm was to rage through the forest for now, as they made their way into the village. People were at their daily work and few looked up as the two outlaws carried on.

Robin didn't notice it at first, but the he felt that the looks they were receiving were not quite the same as usual. He pushed the thought aside, frowning at the concerns his mind came up with. Then he came to a stop, as he saw the havoc in front of him once they had walked around the houses that had previously concealed it.

The house had lost most of its structure, only blackened ruins remained behind. The fire had done its work, and at the sight Robin could only hope that no one had still been inside, when this had happened.

"Much?" Robin put down the sack he had been carrying, looking over where Much was trailing behind, as he was watching a group of villagers at the other side of the ruins.

Much was quick in scurrying up alongside him, dropping his share of the supplies on the ground in a heap as he stared at the charred remains in front of them.

"What happened?" his mouth was agape, the slight horror evident in his voice. Robin could only shake his head. That he couldn't say for certain.

"Maybe someone here can tell us," he was turning, but still confused as the villagers were regarding them with wary gazes. It was as though they were afraid, hesitant to approach or ask for any favors. Something was wrong, Robin could feel it in his bones, but he couldn't know unless someone told him. His eyes searched the crowd, trying to pick out a friendly face, someone he could trust, but instead he saw the same worry, and in some, anger. An anger he could not be certain was even there.

He nodded then. They would not find out what had happened, if they were not to ask the people. Hefting the sack over his shoulder again, he marched towards the group.

"What happened here?" he asked, as he approached them at speaking distance.

"You should know," one of them shouted suddenly, bitterness in his voice. "You and your troublemakers, thieves hiding in the forest. What happens after this?"

"Excuse me," Much interrupted indignantly, "but we have no idea what you mean by that."

Robin ignored him, taking another step forward. "We have done nothing but help all of you."

Robin could remember a time before, back when Joderic had been killed. Labeled as a killer, Robin had been shunned from most of the villages, he and his men chased down by dogs, and hardly anyone had trusted them.

He wasn't sure what was going on here though, but resolved to keep his calm for now and find out.

"Please, what happened here? Is there any way that we can help?"

"Now you want to help? Had you kept the likes of yours away from here, this would not have happened!" The man stepped forward, motioning the house.

"What does he mean by 'the likes of us'?" Much asked, following him.

Robin shook his head, both in answer to him and in denial to the other man. "We have not been here for days. Whatever it is, we are not at fault."

"It was one of you," the man argued back, "they saw him, the Scarlett kid. You think we wouldn't know him?"

"Will?" Robin asked sharply. "What does he have to do with it?"

"He was here last night," the man shouted angrily, taking another step forward. Now there was only a few feet which separated them both, and Robin felt uneasy. His weapons were at his side, but he didn't draw them for fear of making the entire situation go out of hand. What was needed, was reasoning.

'He couldn't have been," Robin started, "he was..." but then his voice fell short as he remembered. He was going to say that Will had been with the rest of them, back at camp. But that wasn't true. Will had not fessed to his whereabouts, and Robin found himself looking back at the house, the strong odor of smoke still lingering in the air. And he could remember the burn on the man's hand. But it

couldn't be...

He knew it couldn't be because there was no reason and no way Will could be responsible.

"It was an accident, surely?" Much insisted now.

"It was not," the man emphasized. "We saw someone running from the house and into the forest."

"Will?You can't be serious," he was shaking his head. "It was probably the storm. It wouldn't be the first time something like that happened, right, master?"

"You saw someone running into the forest?" Robin questioned, "After the fire had started?"

There were affirmative answers around the group. Robin shook his head, "How could you have known it was Will? Much is right, the storm started the fire, nothing else."

Maybe Will had been here, maybe he had seen the fire, had tried to help and had received the burn then. Robin did not know why the man would have run then, but there were many reasons that might explain it, fear, guilt maybe, at not having been able to save the people inside...

There were more accusations, more yells from around the crowd as a man pushed his way to the front. He was disheveled, marks of soot and burns evident on clothes and skin as he came to a stop, his face tight in anger.

"You mean to say that I am a liar?" he demanded, his voice rising. "I saw what I saw, one of you scoundrels, and I saw…my wife, my little girl. They couldn't get out!"

Before Robin could say anything the man was running. Robin barely had time to duck out of the way, supplies forgotten as he danced to one side. A hand fell to his sword, but he still didn't draw in fear of starting real chaos and panic. What had the man said? His wife and daughter?

"Whatever happened was an incident," Robin replied loudly, enough so that everyone could hear. Then he lowered his voice, true compassion showing through. "I am sorry for your loss, but blindly accusing others for something they did not do will not fix anything."

"An incident? They are dead! My wife and my little girl are dead," the man yelled back at Robin. "And you come here...!" The man reached out again and Robin ducked to the side once more, retreating now and glancing around to see where Much was.

He didn't like to leave it like that, but unwilling to use any violence against the villagers, even to defend himself, he knew they had to leave for now.

"Master?" Much called to him, and Robin nodded, knowing that it was time.

"Back to camp."

He followed, letting Much lead the way as they quickly departed the village. The food and supplies had been left behind, but Robin figured they would be put to good use. Despite how angry and confused the villagers might be for the time being, no one could deny the fact they still needed help. Other, more prominent matters lingered on his mind for now.

"I can't believe them," Much was the first to speak once they had reached the forest edge. None of the villagers had followed them, something Robin expected, but even still he kept at a hurried pace well into the forest before slowing down.

"After all we've done, and they treat us like that? What were they saying anyway? Thinking Will was burning houses down. The nerve!"

Robin shook his head only slightly, more to himself than to Much's indignation. Of course it was rubbish what the villagers was accusing Will of, but this wouldn't help Robin or his men if they couldn't convince them of that fact.

Robin figured it was best to let things calm down for now, even though he knew that the loss of a family would leave pain for a long time. Sighing, he wondered what else they could do for the people.

He'd have to ask Will about the past night again, ask him if he had been there, demand of him to admit if he really had been there and had fled the fire for whatever reason. He didn't think for a moment that it really was Will's fault, but he still wanted to inquire why the people would think he had been there. Until that much was figured out, they couldn't offer any help.

It had been dark and the weather unfavorable. Whatever they had seen could have been anything, but denying what the villages proclaimed hadn't helped anyone. Robin felt for them. That was the worst of it all. Locksley was his home, despite where he lived now. And part of the village had been destroyed, and the people were anxious at best. What would Gisborne, or the sheriff say, for that matter, when they came to believe that Robin and his men were the ones responsible?

Suddenly he had an ill feeling, one that he knew could in no way be good. News traveled fast, and Robin was not only beginning to worry about his own fate, but Will's as well. If the men of Locksley had been angry enough to attack him, someone who had not been involved in any way, what would they do to Will, the man they believed to be responsible for everything? And worse…what if Will was?

He came to a stop as the thought hit him, the uncomfortableness apparent as he stood where he was. How could he even think such thoughts? He had been trying to deny it thus far, and then out of nowhere…Robin shook his head. It would not be the first time he was betrayed. Was he too trusting? Had he let his guard slip? Had he given Will extra allowance out of sympathy? But what gain could Will possibly have in burning houses down? More than anything it was Will who wanted to keep the people safe.

"Master? What is it?" Much broke through his thoughts, and Robin was quick to shake his head. He couldn't explain to the man what he was thinking, or why he was even considering it. Instead he glanced around, taking in their surroundings, the time of day. It was almost noon now. The others would return to camp soon enough. It was best for everyone if they just turned in now. Robin would have time to consider his thoughts, and speak to Will about what had happened in Locksley.

"Come, let's get back to camp. I'm sure the others will be hungry soon."

"Ah, yes," Much nodded, catching up to his sudden stride. "I was thinking of that deer we saw last night. If it's there again, we could hunt it, eat that. That would be much better than the bread and cheese we have leftover. Most of it is stale already, but maybe some of the others were able to get fresh stuff from one of the other villages."

Robin listened as they walked on, but only halfheartedly. He doubted that he'd be the only one to not eat tonight, but there was no reason to spoil that illusion for Much.

* * *

It had been almost a year. A full year…he could hardly believe it. Things felt as though it had happened not so long ago, as though living in the forest had started only few weeks, maybe a few months ago. Will would be the first to admit that he wasn't the most literate person around; his mother had taught him some of the basics, he knew the letters, and knew what sounds they made. His father also schooled him as well, enough to learn how to spell when making engravings on special orders. He could read, but it was difficult, However, it was enough to keep track of the days. And it had been nearly a year.

This realization had struck him nearly a month ago. It had been when his father died; Will had made the marker for his grave, including the date. And later, when he was visiting his father's grave, he had remembered. And he had wanted to do something for her.

It was foolish when he thought about it now. He, Djaq and John had gone around to make their drops. Clun was the last of their stops before heading back to camp. So far, the day had gone well. The people were glad to see them, and the day went by without a sign of Gisborne, or any of his cronies. It left their spirits high, and talk between them was open and unhindered as they made their way back to the forest. By then, John had taken the lead, leaving Will and Djaq to follow behind, walking step-in-step next to each other.

And through the entire time, he could not take his mind off of her. She had been with them for nearly a year. How she had changed since then…how he had changed as well. Before he had thought of nothing else than helping Robin in feeding the poor, and oppressing the sheriff. It seemed like the only option, evading the law, help those in need, and bring justice back to the land no matter how small it truly was. But it was something he noticed, bit by bit, with each passing week. And now, he couldn't think of anything else.

It made the matters all the worse. He had nothing to offer her; he was but a simple outlaw, with no title, no lands, not even a house to his name. All the things a man was supposed to provide. All the things he could not have. Why would she have any interest in him? A strange, small English boy who lived in the woods?

True, she lived in the woods just like he. But Will never expected her to stay. This wasn't her fight, after all, and she had a home that was thousands of miles away. No doubt she had suitors back home as well. Suitors that would do far better than he when she did go back. But she hadn't, not yet. It had been nearly a year.

For the past few weeks, he had been sneaking out a night. Perhaps it was the wrong thing to do, regarding the recent turn of events with Allan, but Will wasn't sure what his other options were. There wasn't much privacy back at camp. Someone would catch onto what he was doing, and ruin everything. In all fairness he was careful, waiting until everyone had gone to sleep at night, and returning before anyone woke. Almost, that was. He did not expect Robin to be awake that morning.

Out of everyone though, he should have at least suspected it. Robin never overlooked anything for long. He could only hope now that the man would simply forget what had transpired. After all, it wasn't like Will was doing anything wrong. And it would only go on for a little longer, until he was done. Then things would go back to normal, and there would be no worries, and no more deception. That would be a relief…he already felt guilty for what he was doing now.

"Where have you been?" Djaq asked all of a sudden, and he turned his head towards her quickly, wondering instantly how she knew about it.

"I've been with you," he said quickly, confused.

Her expression was open, showing only mild curiosity. She just wanted to talk, nothing else. He smiled, feeling some embarrassment rising in his face.

"Last night," she clarified.

"Nowhere, really." He hesitated. "Just men's stuff."

"What distinguishes that from girl's stuff?" she shoot him a small grin.

"Nothing," he said quickly, knowing at the same time that he was not making any sense. He shook his head once, at himself not at her, and she grimaced in confusion. It was stupid that he was worrying about her knowing, when she just wanted to make conversation.

As they walked on, another thought came to him, one yet more troublesome. He thought of the other man who had been hiding things. It wasn't anything like that in his case, but it was stupid that she might now wonder about it, just because of his hesitance to tell.

She wasn't pressing him though, and the next thing he heard weren't words from her, but a clear signal sounding through the forest. It was whistling, one they had agreed as a signal to come to camp as quickly as possible. Exchanging glances with Djaq, Will hurried his step, seeing John do the same a little ahead of them.

When they reached camp, Much and Robin were waiting on them. It was good to see the two men at the last, knowing that the urgent call didn't concern any danger for them. Robin's expression was dark though, and Much seemed troubled, too. Will quickly wondered if it had something to do with Marian, knowing that it might be a cause that would worry Robin deeply.

He felt the man's gaze on him though, as he and Djaq came to a stop.

"Will, we need to talk."

Will frowned in confusion, but nodded, despite feeling uncomfortable. He was reminded too much of the situation a while ago, when Robin had pulled him aside as well, but then to lure out the spy in their gang by pretending to banish Will.

Followed by curious looks from John and Djaq as well as an agitated expression from Much, Robin led Will a little away from the camp, Will's mind racing as to what might be wrong. There was nothing that could cause Robin to want to talk to him privately... Robin had questioned him about his whereabouts last night when had returned after the thunderstorm, but there was no reason for him to pick up that conversation again...

When they were out of earshot of the camp, Robin turned to him keeping his voice low anyway.

"Where were you last night?"

"Nowhere," Will repeated what he had told Robin the last time he had asked that question, increasing wonder as to what the man was getting at.

Robin set his jaw, and Will could see more clearly that he wasn't in a cheerful mood. "Tell me the truth, Will."

"It was nothing, really," he assured him stubbornly, unwilling to tell their leader of all people of his foolish ideas.

"Will," Robin said insistently, his gaze fixed on the younger man. "I need you to tell me the truth: where were you?"

"I can't tell you," he answered.

He didn't offer more, but Robin kept staring at him, arms crossed in front of him now. His expression was still dark, and Will still couldn't imagine what was troubling the man. It couldn't be that he worried so much about any silly thing Will might have been up to; something else had to be behind it. Was he suspecting that Will had done anything that might hurt the gang? Was he thinking there was another traitor?

Now he wondered if it was worth it. To avoid sounding like a fool simply because he didn't want to confess. What if Robin did think there was another traitor? What if Robin thought it was him, simply because Will refused to confess? He had to tell, but where to begin? Already he could feel his cheeks burning as he sorted it out in his mind.

"There was in incident in Locksley," Robin began, having not even noticed Will's struggle.

"An incident?" he raised an eyebrow, confused now. Had Robin simply forgotten what he was just previously asking? It was unlike the man, but then Robin did a lot of things he couldn't understand. Perhaps this was just one of them.

"A fire. A house burned down. People were killed."

A fire? Will held his breath. There had been a storm the previous night. That he could remember, he had been caught in it. Lightning strikes weren't unheard of. He watched Robin, unsure of what to say, when a new thought hit him. Robin was watching him, the same hard expression in his features, unmoving. Suddenly Will realized what the man meant.

"Me? You think I did it?"

"Some of the villagers say they saw someone fleeing to the forest."

"And how does this indicate me?" he demanded, shaking his head. How could Robin even assume something such as this?

"Some say it was," the man explained quietly. "This is why I must know where you were. I cannot protect you unless you tell me. All I know is that you were gone."

"I wasn't there," he protested, "I wouldn't do something like that."

"You poisoned the sheriff."

"That's not fair," Will continue to argue. How could Robin even bring that up? He had made a mistake, that he could admit. But poisoning the sheriff, a man who had seen to the death of his father, was far different than killing innocent people. "I didn't do it."

"Where were you?"

Will let out a sigh, knowing he had no choice. But the words came easier than expected as he explained. "You know that clearing, past the North Road?"

Robin nodded, but said nothing, waiting for him to continue.

"I've been going there…I've, I've been making something…for Djaq. For her birthday…well, not her birthday, but her…she's been with us for a year…"

"Why didn't you say something?" Robin didn't seem put off by his explanation. That was a good sign, for it meant that Robin still trusted him.

"I wanted to keep it a surprise," he confessed.

"How did you get the burn?" the man indicated to his hand. Will held it up, realizing now how guilty he must have looked. Slowly he unwrapped the bandages, showing the other. The burn was not bad, but it had hurt when he first had received it.

"Camp fire," he told him. "I slipped when it started to rain. The wood was still hot. You must believe me."

Robin took all of this into consideration before nodding. "I do believe you."

Will felt the worry ease a little, feeling more confident now that he was being given trust. With everything that had happened in recent times, Will knew that he was lucky; Robin did not have to trust any of them simply because they said so. Allan was a good example of that.

"Until things calm down, I'll need you to stay here."

"What?" that part had been unexpected. "Why?"

"Villagers think you are responsible; I don't want to risk you getting hurt."

"But we have Nottingham tomorrow, the drops-"

"Which the rest of us can do just fine. Stay here; I mean it, Will," Robin pressed, using that tone he knew only too well. It was the one Robin reserved for the final say, when one could easily tell that the argument was done, and the man would not change his mind.

He let out a sigh, then nodded in agreement. After all, Robin could have simply banished him like he had done with Allan. But then, he had proof of Allan's wrong-doings. Will knew his situation was different, but still counted himself lucky that he still had Robin's trust.

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry for the long wait, life's been crazy! Thanks for all the reviews though, you guys are great!  
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**Thanks to Neaptidea for the beta :)**

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**Chapter Three**

Morning had come and gone earlier in the day, but it was still too early to call it the afternoon. The sun hung in the sky, glowing brightly and warming the town below. Already it was chaotic, both villagers and guards moving around alike. Apparently it was too much for one simple man. Allan let out a sigh, shifting.

"Come on already, we're going to get caught."

"Guy knows that we are here at the market," Marian reminded him. "He told you not to leave my side, remember?"

"Yeah, and you told him you were shopping."

"I am shopping."

"You're scheming."

"It's the same thing," she told him. "I'm finding out ideas for Robin. You should be doing the same."

When Allan didn't reply to that, Marian shook her head, frowning. She wouldn't argue with Allan on that matter.

This is why she had come to the market. She knew Robin would be here today. More than anything she wanted to see him. Not only for himself, but also because of what she had heard had happened at Locksley. There were rumors that an outlaw was responsible, though Marian didn't consider them to be based on fact.

Still, she wanted to ask Robin about it, as well as pass along other information she had managed to discover. Yet Guy would not let her depart so easily. The sheriff was still keeping a close eye on her, and while she was required to stay in the castle, Guy had taken pity on her, and allowed her a brief time away from the castle. As long as she had a guard. Allan was now fulfilling that position.

The news of his betrayal had been upsetting, but she felt better knowing that at least it offered one positive thing. It made all of this sneaking around business much easier. And maybe, with time, Allan would come to his senses and realize his mistake, and Robin would clam down as well.

"You're not helping anyone, if you're caught, you know that?" Allan kept looking around nervously.

"If you don't like it, you can leave. I can handle it on my own." She figured that Robin would be here soon enough and he wouldn't like to see Allan anyway. In fact, she would prefer to see Robin alone. The only thing bound to happen was more arguing; that was the last thing she needed here in the marketplace.

"Guy told me not to leave your side, you said it yourself," he shrugged.

"Then stop complaining," she returned, peeking out of a gap between the curtains that hid them from sight of the market. She couldn't see Robin anywhere nor any of his men. They were sure to be here soon…

"I'm just worried," Allan said then.

"You don't need to worry about your neck anymore," she returned with an edge, still gazing outside, "you're with Guy, remember?"

"I'm worried about you, too."

"Thanks for the concern," she replied coolly, as she turned back to him and saw him still fidgeting. It was a minor concern, however. A normal guard would have caused her trouble, as she would have found it difficult to find enough excuses to stay away for a long time. To take Allan with her had been convenient and she could be certain that he would keep his mouth shut. It was only slightly distracting that he was not doing so now, but she could live with that.

Allan's face froze then and the next moment she heard the reason for it.

"Now see who we have here," Robin's voice sounded humorless, and she knew it was not directed at her. She turned around and saw him standing few feet away. She smiled and welcomed him in a hug, distracting him from any anger he might feel towards the other man.

He returned the embrace, kissing her before pulling away, his voice quiet as he whispered, "Why is he here

"He's my guard. Just ignore him." She could see that he didn't like it, but as she rubbed the back of his head, his expression turned to a smile after all. "There's a convey coming to Nottingham today," she told him then. "The sheriff is expecting silver." She was talking quietly, but knew that Allan was aware of what was going on anyway.

Robin left his arm around her waist and pulled her to the side, further away from the other man.

"My men are doing the drops right now, but we'll keep a look-out for it. England can always use the money," he looked at her earnestly. "How are things here?"

She knew that Robin still wanted her to come with him to the forest, but she also knew that she was of more use here, and most of all, she wouldn't abandon her father. Robin hadn't liked the idea; he liked it even less now that Allan was here, after learning of his betrayal. Even now she could see how tense Robin was, just being near him. She smiled, trying to distract him.

"I'm fine."

He nodded, "For now…but what if…"

She shook her head, stopping him. "I'll be alright."

The smile he gave her wasn't fully confident, but it was one that showed he was willing to trust her. He brought her into another hold, kissing the top of her head as he did so. She lingered in his embrace, wishing that this was the way they could truly live. Dancing in the shadows, playing within this pretend dream…it was all starting to become too much.

"There's something else I need to ask," Robin said then and she quickly wondered if they had the same thought. "There was a fire at Locksley. A family was killed. Have you heard anything about it?"

She nodded earnestly. "They say it was arson. That it is an outlaw who is responsible. They saw him running away. "

Robin signed, giving her a nod that caused her to worry. "Yes, that's what they saw. Or believe to have seen."

"It wasn't one of your men." It wasn't a question. It was a fact, as she had no reason to believe any of Robin's men would burn down a house and kill people. Robin condemned killing, even more so of innocents. The others believed the same just as strongly. Even they had held no desire to kill Gisborne when Robin had gone into an apparent rage a few months back.

Then again, there was Will who had recently tried to do away with the sheriff. That had been for personal revenge, but what possible reason would any of them have to burn houses in one of the villages? It made no sense.

Robin shook his head. "It could have been the storm, but if it wasn't, then I need to know who it was."

"I don't think there's really a way to find out. If whoever did it fled-"

Shouts sounded over the marketplace all of a sudden and Robin pulled away swiftly in order to peek through the curtains as Marian had done earlier. Just over his shoulder she could see Djaq run by, Much following shortly behind.

"Outlaws! Get them!" someone ordered, a pair of guards giving chase.

"I leave them alone for but a few minutes," he gripped, his voice changing then. "I've got to go."

Robin gave a brief nod of goodbye to her, before he skirted out of the shielded place, leaving Marian behind with Allan. She waited only long enough to see him disappear, melting into the shadows before turning back to Allan. Pushing him forward she drew the hood over her face, stepping out into the main path of the market. "Let's go."

No one was paying attention to them, the uproar focused on the outlaws that were being chased by the guards. Only once did she pause, smiling with satisfaction as the group disappeared over a wall. It was always relieving to know the others made it safely. Robin especially. Turning her attention back to the market she grabbed the nearest dress, passing the coins off to the eager merchant. After all, she did need a reason for having been away at the market most the morning.

Shortly after, she and Allan slipped through the final gates, the guards hardly giving them a second glance as they moved through. She walked quickly over the castle yard and up the steps of the castle, Allan still by her side.

"Where are you going?"

"To my room," she replied simply. "I don't need to be watched in the castle," she added, throwing a glance at him.

"Guy says-"

She shook her head slightly. "I'm hounded enough as it is. I do not need any supervision."

* * *

Allan tended to consider it interesting to watch the sheriff's game with Gisborne. It sometimes became a little uncomfortable, too, he had to admit, when one watched the man being toyed with and ridiculed. But then Guy was the one who was chasing Allan around if he demanded anything. Allan guessed it was simply a sort of pecking order at the castle and he figured he could do worse.

Allan had removed the guard's uniform he had worn while going to the market with Marian, now clad in the same black garments he had worn before. Though not his first choice, it had been the only thing offered. And they did tend to keep him warmer than those tattered rags he once had.

What was happening now was just shy of amusing. He could hear the sheriff's screams even before he entered the chamber. The man was livid.

"They stole it! Every last shilling! How could they?" He spun around fiercely, catching his breath before facing Gisborne again with clenched hands.

"They could have not known; I had the route changed, milord," Guy defended himself. "It is not possible."

"You should know that Hood's little spies know everything!" Vaysey charged forward, stopping only an inch in front of Gisborne. The man did not flinch and Allan was slightly impressed. The smirk he had felt creep onto his face vanished when the sheriff's head turned towards him. "And he is one of them!"

"I'm not working for him," Allan was quick to defend himself, uneasy because of the accusation. "Not anymore, I told you all of his little secrets, didn't I?"

Gisborne looked at him as well, apparently only now noticing Allan's presence. "He did not know about it," he clarified.

Allan did not miss that Guy did not say he trusted him not to work for Robin, but simply excluded him from knowing about whatever had been stolen. Allan's instincts told him it was the silver Marian had told Robin about. The gang had certainly been quick to take it, Allan couldn't deny that.

"How did Hood know about it then? Now tell me that!" the sheriff demanded, fletching his teeth.

"I do not know, my Lord. I was at Locksley myself," Gisborne excused himself.

"At Locksley? What were you doing at that godforsaken place when you were supposed to protect my silver?"

"There was a fire in the village, milord, and I went to assess the damage."

Vaysey fumed. "What do we care if all those wretched cottages are burning down? As long as it isn't your manor, it shouldn't concern you, Gisborne. Even then, I thought that these housewarming gestures are just what you prefer."

"It was arson, milord, and they say an outlaw was responsible," Guy went on.

"So Hood is burning down houses in Locksley now? Maybe he just doesn't want you to have it," the sheriff smirked, before his expression returned to anger. "Do I care? A clue."

"I don't think that it was Hood," Gisborne intervened.

"Not Hood? Not Hood!" Vaysey paced. "Maybe that's because he's been busy plotting to steal my silver!"

"It is not Hood's style to kill peasants," the other man pointed out, though Allan wondered why he even kept talking about the issue, seeing that the sheriff clearly didn't care about it. Maybe Guy just wanted to distract from the failure with the silver...

Vaysey groaned. "Who was it then, Gisborne? I know you want to talk about your sorrows, but don't strain my patience too long."

Allan raised his eyebrows, wondering about the question. He was sure it had not been any of the gang, but who else could it have been? Of course, there were certainly a large number of petty criminals out there as well, men who neither considered the lives of innocents nor shared the wealth they robbed like Robin's gang of outlaws did, which had not always been to Allan's liking when he had still been with them.

The sheriff kept pacing and while Allan hung to the thoughts of his earlier life, Guy spoke again.

"Perhaps it was the Nightwatchman," he suggested. "We know he's in league with Hood. Might have been a distraction-"

"Not being funny," Allan shook his head at the ludicrous thought, "it can't have been the Nightwatchman, I mean, she wasn't even..."

He hadn't been able to stop himself, the words slipping out without real knowledge. When they spoke of Marian, within the gang, her identity had never been an issue with keeping it a secret. Gisborne had demanded that he tell who the Nightwatchman was. Allan had denied knowing then…

Vaysey's gaze was once again upon him. "She?"

"I mean, he... she, he's a she, she's a he... two in one kind thing, who can really know," Allan sputtered with a nervous laugh.

"Gisborne…is he even talking sense? Tell me that he is speaking some sort of sense…the Nightwatchman…a woman?"

"Nonsense, milord. I've fought the Nightwatchman before; he is a man."

"What Gisborne? Too afraid to admit that you've been beaten by a girl?" The sheriff let out a smile, moving closer to Allan then. The former outlaw took a step back, pressing against the wall.

"Come now, my boy, tell me what you know? Who is she?"

"I…I dun know," he sputtered quickly, swallowing. He could feel his heart hammering inside of him, and surely the others could hear it as well. If the pounding didn't alert him to his lies, then the sweat beading on his forehead would. "It's like I told you, I dun even know if she's a she…or he's a he, of course. I could be wrong about both even!"

"If you don't even know that, how come you know it was not the Nightwatchman, or shall I say Nightwatchwoman, mmh?" Vaysey questioned and Allan felt increasingly uncomfortable. If the sheriff found out about Marian because of the slip of his tongue, Robin would kill him. He swallowed.

"It was just a guess, really, you said yourself, Hood doesn't kill peasants, and the Nightwatchman is in league with him, so why would he?"

He glanced at Guy nervously, hoping to gain support from that side.

"The Nightwatchman does not always operate with Hood. He has mostly been seen alone," Guy contradicted him though.

"Tell me who he is…she is, I do not care, but you are going to tell me, now!" the sheriff's voice exploded at the last words.

"I don't know, I swear," Allan said stubbornly, retreating slightly. He knew he wouldn't be able to hold this up much longer. The sheriff would take other measures if he thought Allan was not cooperating. He was not entirely keen of going through another bout of torture, but he knew that it was a likely possibility.

He looked into the man's face now, setting on his best bluffing expression, a face that had saved him many times. The sheriff's eyes narrowed and he watched him closely but Allan held his gaze steady. Then Vaysey turned abruptly away, stepping towards Gisborne.

"It seems like your boy doesn't want to tell us where he's been. Perhaps he is not as traitorous as we first assumed. Still working for Hood under our very eyes. Have you been watching him, Gisborne? Do you know what your little puppet has been up to I wonder?"

Gisborne's obedient expression turned into confusion as he apparently thought about the question. After some moments he answered, "He has been guarding Marian today, while she went to the market."

"So," the sheriff paced once again, "the leper."

"Milord?" Gisborne asked, and Allan noticed the discomfort in his voice, while his own mind raced as to what to do. Vaysey was terribly close to the truth, though he had no proof as of yet for his suspicion, but Allan doubted the man really needed a clear one.

They would take more desperate measures to ensure a confession. Allan knew he would not be able to hold it back forever. He was weak, a coward. And if he happened to live through whatever the sheriff intended to put him through then, Robin would soon come and change that. Allan was sweating and praying that Vaysey would not get to the truth, he was trying to come up with another story he could tell, another distraction he could bring that would take the men's thoughts away from the identity that Allan had so involuntarily betrayed.

The sheriff turned then, rather unexpectedly, pacing back to the front of the room. He ooked to Gisborne , his smile tight and wry. "Of course, you would never believe that your little leper was the Nightwatchman…woman, whatever. But who knows if Allan here hasn't been consorting with her all along, passing secrets to Hood."

"Unlikely," Gisborne was quick to defend, earning a small sigh from Allan. For once in his life he was grateful for the other man's opinion. "In the time that I spend with her, I would know."

"Would you now?"

"It's not her," Allan sputtered out, feeling more confident now that Gisborne had defended her as well. "I mean…I dun know who it is, and I'm being serious."

"Curious, isn't it Gisborne?" the sheriff emphasized each word. "He knows it's not the leper, but he doesn't know who it is."

"Well…it's like he said. We would know if it was her…and it isn't. It could be anyone really," Allan asserted quickly, still sweating. Vaysey looked at him with an expression that made his stomach twist. Surely the man would have him tortured at any moment. But what happened next was unexpected.

"Perhaps you'll remember in due time then," the man exasperated, frowning. "Shoo, go on. Gisborne and I have important business to attend to."

Allan stared at the man, not believing his ears at first. Had the sheriff really told him to leave? He glanced over the man's head and saw a twitch of Gisborne's eyebrows, signaling him to go. He did not need a second invite. Allan scrambled away, pushing the door to the corridor open. Once he was outside, he felt like he had just pulled his head out of the noose. He hurried away, cursing his loose tongue. Usually it helped him out of tights spots rather than get him into him. He needed to take more care, to be more cautious. And he needed to warn Marian. Without a doubt the sheriff and Guy would be keeping a close watch on her. She needed to know, he had to tell her, to warn her. Even if she killed him for it.

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks to Neaptidea for the beta **

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* * *

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**Chapter Four**

She needed to know.

He said this to himself over and over again. He had to warn her. He had to tell her. No doubt the sheriff and Gisborne would be there, knocking at her door. She could not keep a lie forever. Then after they would drag her to the gallows. Publicly humiliated, hanged until dead.

Subconsciously he reached up with a hand, caressing his own neck. He had already felt the noose once. The tight fibers digging into his skin, his heart racing as his lungs fought for air. The experience had been terrifying. It was Robin's arrow that had saved him. Yet he feared that it would now be the death of him.

Allan tried to shake the feeling off. Escaping from the sheriff's clutches had not been an easy thing to do. With words that were normally smooth he had stuttered and tripped more than once trying to disentangle himself from the blasted mess he had landed in. Part of him wanted to believe he had been convincing in dispelling the belief that Marian was the Nightwatchman. Yet he knew that it had not been so.

He was normally good with his tongue. His quick wit, his charm, and occasional blundering gave him advantages over the normal man. To swipe a purse in a simple drunken swagger, or confuse the already muddled mind in allowing one too many coins to slip free. To foist off blame from one person to the other. His entire life, more or less, had been lived as such. Old habits were hard to break. Old habits were what landed him here.

Another drink was placed before him, and Allan wasted little time in consuming it. He had hoped coming here would help. Hoped that it would make him forget. Things would pass, they had to. Gisborne would not let the woman he adored fall into any harm. Not only that, but Robin was around often enough that he would leap and bound to the woman's side if anything happened to her. Yes…things would be fine. Why did he feel so bad then?

Perhaps it was not too late. He wouldn't have to pack much; just enough to get from one town to the other. Climbing ranks had been easy. It would be easy to do so in another shire. Steal enough purses to make a living, swindle his way into league with someone of power. Prove that he was useful. He could buy his way into life, into position, and live a far grander, not to mention safer, life than he was living now. There would be no threat of Robin, or Marian, and he would not have to play these meager games with the sheriff or Gisborne any longer. He needed no one but himself.

But he could not just leave. The thought came back to him, as though being slammed against a brick wall. No doubt once discovered, the sheriff would take immediate action. Against Marian, that was. Robin would not risk venturing back into Nottingham for several days. Not after being there that morning. Who knew what would happen within that time? No…he had to warn her. She deserved to know. He owed that much to her seeing that it was his fault she was even in danger.

They could go together. He would see her to the forest, they would part ways. She knew where the camp was, and Robin would not hesitate to take her back in. Allan, however, knew that he would be a dead man if the archer ever laid sight on him. That was why he needed to leave. He would head south. Towards Portsmouth. The town was a large one, or so he had heard, always brimming with activity. Maybe he could he even catch a ride on a ship. He was never much a sailor, but he was a quick learner. And the further away from England he went, the better off he would be.

It was rare for her to have any visitors at this time. Gisborne would force his company upon her when he felt the need, but that was not often. She would listen to his words for a time, before shooing him off with a request of sleep and he would listen, disappearing and letting her be for the next handful of nights before trying again. If he sought her out on purpose, or merely wished for someone to speak to she could never know. So it was no real surprise when she heard the knock at her door. What did surprise her, was who it was.

The first thought she had when she saw him was that something had happened to Robin. She wasn't sure why she believed Allan to have any knowledge about the man that had expelled him from the gang, but she guessed that he would know if he had been captured. And it looked that serious, the distress reading clear and loud on his face.

"What happened?" she whispered, as he closed the door behind him.

"You've got to leave the castle."

A shiver went over her and she knew that the moment had come. She knew that it would eventually slip one day, had always feared it. But never like this… The way he said it left only one explanation...

"Why?" she asked anyway, as if to deny the fact of what he had said.

"The sheriff...he knows, about you. I mean, he might know, or he will soon…he's good at guessing."

She could see the guilt written in his face. "You told him?"

"No! I swear…I…" he shook his head. "I swear I didn't tell them. But... something slipped from me and I think they've been guessing it's you."

"They?"

"Sheriff and Guy," Allan said, glancing at the door nervously.

Marian nodded, a lump in her throat, as she thought of the consequences of these men finding out about her.

"We've got to leave now," Allan urged her. "We go to the forest, and you can go to Robin. I'll go my own way, and we can all be out of this..."

To the forest…a mixture of relief and joy. Something much of what Robin would feel as well when she strode into camp during the midst of the night. He would be angry, yet grateful, and worried all of the same. She believed that Gisborne and the sheriff were far too busy to meddle with men and their unlawful ways, but somehow she felt that Guy would never stop when it concerned her. Even more so when the man knew of her devious deeds. And then there was her father…what would happen with him?

"Well, are you coming or not?" Allan hissed at her.

"My father, I can't leave him here," she started.

"They won't take long when they figure out it's you," Allan cut her off. "I dun' plan on being around when they do. It's my neck if you get caught."

"Is that all you're concerned about? Your neck?" She wondered, angry now. It was his fault they were now in this predicament. He had openly admitted to letting loose with his words. And now he was trying to foist blame off onto her.

"Well, yours too," he breathed hurriedly, trying to correct himself. "I could have easily left without warning you. I could have been well out of Nottingham, and you wouldn't have known a thing."

It was irritating, but true. What was done was done, and that could not be changed. If they had any hopes they had to flee, and the sooner the better. She moved quickly, pulling free a cloak from her bed, throwing the garment on. Part of her wanted to pack some belongings, to take what minor possessions she had with her to the forest. But there was no time. Robin would take care of both her and her father if only they could make it to the forest. Even now she wasn't sure how they would get the man out of the dungeons, but there had to be a way, and if Allan was willing to help…

She nodded to Allan then, signaling that she was ready, and the pair turned to the door. Having opened it, Allan moved out, only to come to a stop and back up quickly, running into her. Marian stumbled out of the way, cursing him under her breath, coming to a stop only when seeing why he had done so.

Gisborne moved into the room then, the hood falling from his face to reveal dark eyes that were grimly set. It was a difficult feat to tell if the man was angry, or disturbed. The room was silent, no one daring to even breathe as the Master-at-Arms scoured the room with his gaze, his expression hardening to one that was more of anger than that of disbelief.

"Going somewhere? A nightly stroll, perhaps? Or fleeing before you face the ultimatum of the hangman's noose?"

"I can explain," Allan answered quickly. "The Nightwatchman…it's me. Funny, I know, right? But it's true. I've been doing all the robbin' and stealing from you and the sheriff. I mean, it's easy, right? Being here, in the castle, no one suspects me, no one asks where I'm going or why. And like you said, how would I know unless I _knew _the Nightwatchman? I certainly know myself, if you get what I'm saying."

"It's me," Marian breathed quietly. She knew the lie would not hold up, and neither would she allow someone else to risk themselves for a deed that was rightly hers. She had always known that one day this would happen. Always knew she would have to face up to the consequences of her actions, however right or wrong they had been.

"Funny there…what she means is…," Allan pressed on with a breath. "She found out it was me, you see. I made her swear not to tell anyone. I…threatened her…I…uh…told her I'd get rid of her. And now, I couldn't just leave her here to rat me out, not with you and sheriff guessing my secret."

He had spilled it in nearly one breath, his words muddling together so that hardly made any sense. If was meant to try and cover the truth of the situation, or merely stall for time, Marian could not be certain. If it was for the latter, then it certainly worked. Gisborne could only stare at the man, the strangest of expressions coming over his face. Marian felt her heart skip a beat. Maybe Allan had really weaseled his way out of this one.

"GUARDS!"

Or maybe not.

As soon as the man had yelled they sprung into action. She was well trained and had no doubts about Allan's fighting ability. Though they had never truly fought side by side it didn't feel so odd. A kick landed square in Gisborne's face, knocking him flat against the door. Allan was quick in grasping him by the shoulders, pushing him to the side. Running through the door, and out into the corridor was only a given.

Allan ran into her as she came to a stop, his gaze following hers as they saw guards fill in from both sides. It seemed an impossible feat, and the feeling of dread had quickly returned. They would die tonight, or if any luck remained with them, the morning would greet them one last time as they were marched out to the gallows.

"One of us needs to get out of here," she breathed, turning to him. "One of us must get to the forest. Robin can help us."

"Not being funny, but Robin wouldn't help me. I can't even get near the camp without him aiming an arrow at my head."

"Well, maybe you should have thought about that before you went off and betrayed him," she muttered quietly, raising her voice as the guards approached. "Don't argue with me; if we both want to live then one of us needs to escape. And right now…they're interested in the Nightwatchman. And that's exactly who they'll get."

She didn't wait for a response, turning then and charging ahead at the guards. She struck out, catching the first unawares, knocking him down before moving onto the other. It was simple at first. None of the men there suspected a woman to be much of a threat, but their opinions on that matter changed rapidly in a matter of seconds.

Weaponless she was only able to strike a few before they took her down. Most likely they were far too kind simply because of who she was, still not following quite what was happening. She put up a struggle, causing as much of a distraction as she could, hoping that Allan had listened to her words of advice. Her gaze flicked that way, a smile crossing her face as she saw his retreating form dart around a corner. There were maybe half a dozen guards following his wake, but she knew the man would find a way to slip free. That meant there was still hope for her.

Her thoughts shifted then as Gisborne moved into the corridor, wiping blood free of his face where he had been struck. The anger was clear in his eyes, and it turned her insides to jelly. She had seen his anger before, but it had never been quite directed at her before.

"Orders, Sir Guy?"

It was folly on her part to wish that he would pardon her. That he would take into consideration all that they had shared. Still the thought was there, fleeting as it was. The man sneered in her direction, shaking his gloved hand free of the blood he had wiped from his face.

"Get her out of my sight," he whispered. "I do not deal with traitors and outlaws."

"Guy…" she tried to plead, tried to get him to change his mind, but he was quick in cutting her off.

"That is Sir Guy to you. And you do not speak to me unless I address you first. Take her away."

The last part was said quieter, as if regretting what he had to do. The sudden transformation of the man she thought him to be, to the man he was, was frightening. And it did nothing to calm her nerves as she was dragged away, her future from this point on uncertain. No doubt the sheriff would order her to hang, and would have the same done to her father. The fear she felt was due mostly because she felt that Robin would not come in time. Her fate, her father's fate…rested in the hands of a traitor.

It was not a comforting thought.

* * *

The goblets were filled full to the brim, a few precious drops missing and landing on the table. Normally it would entice a barrage of yells, on meager insults and petty threats. But the jovial mood was obvious, and could not be dampened by such trivial insight. Not even when half the wine was spilt as it was brought to his lips. The sheriff took a sip, enjoying the moment before he put it down, looking at the man who stood beside the table.

"Happy day, Gisborne. Today, is a happy day. I was right, was I not? All we had to do was wait for our little friend to run and warn the leper. Proof, Gisborne. Nothing more solid than that!"

Gisborne didn't answer, enticing Vaysey to pick up the other goblet, dangling it in front of the other man.

"Now come on, Gisborne, don't be sad! There'll be plenty of other girls who can stab a knife into your heart and twist it around!"

There was still nothing said, a smirk creasing the sheriff's face. How could he stand there and brood over a woman? A traitor, none the less. He couldn't help but smile some more. For so long he had searched for a way to get rid of that little distraction Gisborne liked to call a woman, and she had practically fallen into their laps. Or he supposed he should be thanking the other one, Hood's former man. He grinned.

"So what are we going to do with her now, hmm?" he asked. He already knew that he wouldn't let the leper live very much longer, but he enjoyed the prospect of Gisborne battling his conflicted emotions. The man was pathetic, and it had been so long since Vaysey had proper entertainment.

"She is none of my concern. The decision is yours, milord," the man finally answered in a hard voice.

"You know that all traitors have to die, don't you?" The sheriff smiled at Gisborne. The man lifted his gaze ever so slightly.

"Yes, milord."

"What shall it be? The rack…a few days in the stocks…or perhaps we'll go easy on your missy and have her hanged?"

"She is not my..." Gisborne paused. "Whatever you chose; perhaps since she is a lady, the sheriff will show mercy and simply have her hanged."

He was so weak, but he couldn't help smile at the fact. To watch him battle hidden emotions, to want to protect the foul creature and steal her away for himself and yet want to follow and obey the law. To have power. The man could simply not decide which he wanted. "I told you long ago that you can't trust the leper."

Gisborne remained silent on that and the sheriff enjoyed the moment, waiting for the man to speak again.

"What about Allan, milord?"

The sheriff scowled. "He ran, didn't he? And you and your guards failed to catch him!" He was annoyed about the renewed show of incompetence of the guards, but then another thought dawned on him. He'd never trusted the traitor – as little as he had trusted Marian – and he could imagine the man was running back to warn Hood now. "But perhaps he's not as useless as he seems…"

"Pardon?"

"The Nightwatchman…woman, the leper, whatever, is obviously in league with Hood. Where do you think your little pest of a problem is headed at this very moment? To warn Hood, obviously. No doubt he'll come and whisk her away to safety. He's done so once before," the sheriff mused on this with a slight grin. "Now, when did he last do that? Ah yes, on your wedding…to bad it happened before the vows had time to take place and lock you in Holy Matrimony. It would have been rather enjoyable to watch you wither and squirm at the idea of your wife meddling with Hood's affairs…"

Once again nothing was said, though it was not surprising. Gisborne's lack of backbone was one of the few things the sheriff enjoyed about the man. He let out a laugh, entwining his fingers behind his head as he leaned back in the chair.

"Oh yes Gisborne. Your little man has gone to fetch daddy to save the poor little maiden. And we'll be waiting for him…for all of them. Robin Hood and his men, and the Nightwatch-woman, together in life…and in death. Come Gisborne…we have much to do."

**TBC**


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks goes to Neaptidea for the beta**

* * *

**Chapter Five**

She knew that her father was disappointed in her. He never approved of her antics as the Nightwatchman. He had learned to accept it, but that was not the same as commending it. And it was easy for him to blame her for everything that had taken place. Not just the Nightwatchman, but her dealings with Robin, and her imprudent behavior had landed her here. And Allan was to blame as well.

But she said none of this when she passed by him. She instead spent her effort on reassuring her father that everything would be fine. The truth was that she was terrified; no doubt come the next morning she would hang. And what would happen to her father as a result? The sheriff kept him locked up only so that he could maintain some control over her. When she was gone, there would be nothing to stop him from doing the same to her father. He would once again pay for her actions, and this time with his life. How things would have been different if only she had gone to the convent all that time ago.

It was odd that that thought occurred now, after such a time. That had been before her father had agreed to her terms. But Marian supposed she was foolish to demand he do so in the first place. They both could be living a relatively safe life. She wouldn't have been able to see her father, or Robin for that matter, but none of this would be happening. The thought stayed with her, even as the cell door was closed behind her. She could hear her father, questioning her still, as the man stood pressed against the bars. Letting out a sigh she sat down, running her fingers over her face When she had composed herself, she finally brought herself to admit what had happened.

"Guy knows who I am."

Feigning innocence would do no good; attacking Gisborne and the others had not been the smartest of ideas, but at least Allan had been able to get away. Now she wondered if the man would even come back for her, or tell Robin for that matter. Maybe it would have been better to have escaped herself, but she knew even now she would have never forgiven herself had she ran away, and left her father behind.

"You mean…he found out about-"

"Yes," she nodded, folding her hands in her lap. After a moment she lifted her head, meeting her father's gaze. There was worry there, concern she had not seen in a long time. She forced a smile, trying to act as though it was no big deal.

"There is help coming, Robin-"

"Robin won't be able to stop this," he warned her. Marian found herself gritting her teeth.

Even after all this time, her father had not come to terms with Robin, and what he did. She assumed the man might even blame the outlaw for 'corrupting' his daughter. That part was not true; she had been the Nightwatchman well before Robin returned from war. She had explained this to him as well. But she could see that he did not fully believe her. Of course, she had gotten bolder since Robin's return. Part of that was her wanting to prove that she could do just as much good as he. Maybe her father was right in a sense. Maybe Robin was to blame for some of this. She couldn't help but smile at the thought, but it was one that was sad. She wasn't even sure if she would be able to see Robin one last time. And she knew her father was speaking the truth.

Morning was only a short time away. Even if Allan had intentions of getting help, Robin would not arrive before dawn. The sheriff had long been searching for the Nightwatchman, and he would be even more thrilled upon learning she was the culprit.

"We'll be alright," her father told her, a small promise that she could not bring herself to believe. Still, she smiled, letting him believe that she trusted him. None of it would matter when the morning came.

* * *

He could hit the mark easily. But there had to be a compromise. No one would agree to it otherwise. It was infuriating at times; Robin would not admit that he enjoyed being the best. Yet there were times when he wished there was someone up to his level concerning skill. What fun was it holding any type of competition when no one could match him? Even less fun was hearing them complain when he started to show off. It wasn't his fault he was good…

"Surprise there," Much griped, pulling the arrow free of the wood. "Robin wins again."

"Of course he won," Will sat down near the fire, feeding it small bits of twigs and leaves. "He wouldn't be Robin if he didn't."

"Thank you, Will," Robin addressed him with a nod and a smile of his own, glad to see that his friend was more relaxed now than he was earlier. He knew the man had been upset about staying behind the day before when the others had gone to the castle. But it seemed as though the man was not trying to hide any hard feelings. Robin smiled, glancing over the area.

"Let's make another mark, further off."

"I could barely hit the last one," Much complained.

"Then I'll shoot for you."

"That doesn't even make sense. You could just as easily shoot by yourself."

"Where's the fun in that?" Robin wondered, already stringing his arrow. He sighted in on a limb of a tree that was several yards behind the target they had just used. One could barely follow it, but the thunking sound could be heard clearly, and the shaft of the arrow protruded from the exact mark he had been aiming for.

"Not bad," he mused, pursing his lips.

"Not bad? That's better than all of us combined."

"Then you all need more practice," Robin grinned at his friend. "Come on, you can't tell me you're afraid?"

"That's absurd," he griped, coming up to him. "Why would I be afraid to shoot an arrow?"

"Afraid of losing?"

"Why would I be afraid of that? I always lose."

"True," Robin muttered, smiling again, "come on, Much. What do you say? Do it for me?"

"For all of us really," Will spoke up then. "He won't let it go until you agree."

"Fine," Much picked up his bow once more. "But only if you promise not to make fun of me."

Robin shrugged his shoulders, rolling his eyes as the man asked once again. "I promise, Much. I won't make fun of you."

"Good," the other said, stringing his arrow. "The least I could get is some respect."

He drew the bow, sighting in his aim, and released, watching it soar through the air. Robin couldn't help but laugh as the arrow fell short of the target. It was another easy win.

"You promised you wouldn't make fun of me!"

"I didn't say anything," Robin laughed, turning to him.

"You were laughing!"

"That's not making fun; that's…me enjoying myself."

"Yes, at my expense."

Robin shook his head slightly, still chuckling, drawing his bow once again. It was a bit of a break, some celebration really after their successful ambush on the silver delivery. It was the only successful thing it seemed. The drops had not gone so well in Nottingham the day before, and the question of the fire at Locksley still bothered him, but like Marian had said, he didn't think there was a way to find out who had really done it. For now, they could only hope that things would quiet down, that the villagers would realize that their accusations had been misplaced. The gang would send more help to the peasants, when they could, too.

He started to aim, but a moment before he was to release the arrow something caught his eye. He moved quickly, letting the arrow fly far too the left, the shaft imbedding into a tree just inches from the man who had just come to his view. There was a curse from the man, a few protests coming from behind him, but Robin hardly paid any heed. He knew what he was doing.

He hadn't intended to kill Allan, just startle him, make him think twice before trying anything.

Allan held up his hands. "Don't shoot the messenger!"

Robin had drawn another arrow before the other man had even finished speaking, pointing it at the former outlaw's head now. "You've got till I count to three to get out of here."

Allan didn't move. "Marian needs your help," he said hastily instead. Robin wasn't quite sure what he would do in case Allan wasn't going to leave. The man's words made him grip his bow tighter, stepping closer to the traitor.

"Be careful what you're saying. I don't want to hear any of your lies."

"I swear, she's in trouble, Robin, she needs your help."

"What happened?" Robin asked, though he did still not fully believe Allan. The man could easily be setting a trap for him and the gang, a plan manufactured by him and Gisborne. Allan would, without a doubt, know that Marian was his greatest weakness, that he would do anything for her. And he was right; Robin would not turn away from even the slightest indication of trouble.

"Gisborne and the sheriff found out she's the Nightwatchman," Allan told them quickly. "They arrested her; not being funny, but I don't think the sheriff's going to just let her go."

Another arrow flew over the man's head, and Robin immediately followed jumping in his direction. He grabbed Allan, pushing him against the tree.

"You betrayed her?"

Allan wriggled. "I swear I didn't!"

"You told them?"

"No, I mean, yes, kind of. I didn't mean to, I swear! It just sort of happened."

Robin didn't release his hold, grabbing the man's shirt collar even tighter. This was one of the things he had always been afraid. Something he knew that one day would happen. He was an idiot. He should have killed Allan when he had found out about his treachery. They would have all done well without him around.

"Look," Allan breathed, catching his attention, "I didn't come here to fight you; you have to believe me. There's not much time, but we can still save her."

"We?" Robin asked, raising an eyebrow. He wouldn't go anywhere with him.

"They know I tried to help her. They're looking for me," Allan answered with a nod. "I can distract them, while you free Marian."

"You would give yourself up? I don't think so," Robin replied with a growl.

"I would…if you came back for me, of course

Allan was in no means loyal, and had proven that to be true on more than one occasion. Trusting Allan would surely lead to all of their downfalls. Yet, at the same time, he knew that Allan had a point. If Allan had tried to help her, then the sheriff would demand his captivity as well. By simply showing his face in Nottingham, Allan would cause the needed diversion, hopefully long enough to free Marian.

Robin pulled free a dagger, resting the knife against the man's throat. There were a few protests from the others, Allan first and foremost, but the man stilled, hardly daring to breathe as the metal came in contact with his flesh.

"If I find out that you've lied to us…"

"I haven't," Allan whispered.

"_If _I find out, there won't be anything anyone can say to stop me."

"I promise, Robin. I'm not lying…"

He let the man go, shoving him to one side before turning to the others. "We're going to Nottingham. Allan, here, has volunteered to lead the way."

"Master, surely," Much shook his head, coming up to stand near him. His voice was low, almost a whisper. "It's a trap."

"It probably is," Robin answered back. "But I will not risk Marian's life on it."

"But…you'll be killed."

"Not if we do things our way. Trust me, alright? I have a plan."

"I don't like it anymore than the others," Will spoke then. "Robin's right, if Marian is in trouble, we can't abandon her."

"And if she isn't, we expose her secret, and get ourselves killed in the process," Much declared.

"Can't we argue about this later?" Allan pleaded. "I don't know how long they'll wait before they do something."

Robin nodded, knowing the truth behind those words. There would be time later to argue over what had been done, but first, they needed to do it.

"Will, stay here, the rest of you with me."

"Robin-" the man started to protest. Robin cut him off quickly.

"People still believe you're responsible for the fires. I do not have the time to look after you and Allan," he snapped.

Will was going to argue again, but fell silent at the glare Robin gave him. Finally the man nodded, and Robin turned to the other man. Allan was waiting still, and though he did not want to trust the man, knowing everything that had happened in the recent past, Robin knew that he had no other choice. He would get to Nottingham, rescue Marian, and then worry about Allan later.

* * *

He watched the others leave with a mixture of bitterness and disappointment. It was the second time in less than a day that he had been left behind. Robin claimed that he trusted him. But if he did, then he wasn't making much of an effort to show it.

They were heading to Nottingham, into what might possibly be a trap. They were taking Allan's word over his. Allan's word…the man who had betrayed them all. Subconsciously, Will reached up and rubbed his jaw. It had been weeks since Robin had hit him, and any bruising was long gone, but he could still remember the sting. Still could remember the surprise.

Even now, he was sure no one had really gotten over what Allan had done. It was unforgiveable, and there was no coming back from something like that. But now it was as though none of it mattered. They were all willing to follow the traitor without a second thought, all because he had mentioned one name. Will clenched his fists, sitting down with an angry sigh.

All of this was because of the fire. They blamed him. No one said it outright, but Will knew they suspected him. Could he even blame them? He turned his hand, studying the burn that was still there. Most of it had faded, but the outline was still visible. He wondered, too, if it was all worth it. Then he smiled, and nodded as if answering himself.

Pushing himself to his feet, he moved out of the camp. He wasn't going to stay, despite what Robin asked of him. There was nothing to be done, and Will wasn't going to waste his time worrying. Making sure the area was secure, he headed north, back to the clearing he had spent his nights in.

On hands and knees he reached into the base of the large tree that had been hollowed out some time ago by a small fire. Inside, buried under a thin layer of dirt, he removed the cloth-bound object, setting it carefully on the ground. The ties were loosened, and the cloth pulled away, and Will found himself smiling as he ran his hand along the wood.

It was still rough in some spots, but that could be easily fixed. He lifted the lid, counting the compartments inside. There were ten altogether, one that was large, others a bit smaller, and two that were even more so. Djaq would be pleased when she saw it. He was certain. For a while now she had been storing her medicines in a cloth sack. More than once one had been broken from being jostled around, or a lid had been lost, causing a large mess. The bag itself was almost worn through, and would not last much longer.

The box he had made would hold everything she had, and allow room for several more. It would keep them separated, and keep them from being broken, or falling to one side. The box was sturdy enough to be buried as well, to keep it safe from prying eyes, and curious hands.

Will pulled the small tool from his belt, chipping away the wood carefully to widen one of the compartments. He figured another few nights, maybe a week, and then it would be ready. He began to wonder what else he might be able to do. How easy would it be, he wondered, to line each compartment with a bit of fur? They had a number of conies back at the camp, it wouldn't take very long to skin them. But he didn't know a lot about cleaning fur, Much was better at that. And he didn't dare ask the man for any help. Will knew he would never hear the end of it if he did.

He let out a sigh. It would be better to leave it like it was. He wasn't even sure if Djaq would like it. The sudden, foolish feeling was coming back, and he stopped what he was doing, sitting back on his heels. Will thought about her, about the others, wondering if they had reached Nottingham yet. The fact he had not been allowed to come still stung. Robin shouldn't have made him stay. He was no child, after all. He could take care of himself. If it hadn't been for the fire…

Will bit his lip, turning towards Locksley. He couldn't see the village from here, but he knew the general direction. The knowledge of what had happened bothered him. How could it be that the people thought he was responsible? Locksley was his home, as much as it was Robin's. Most of the people that lived there he had grown up with, and he had helped his father in maintaining the buildings. Why then, would they think he was responsible for destroying it all?

Will shook his head, wrapping the box back up and sliding it into the base of the tree. Then he was on his feet, moving out of the clearing and back into the foliage. He was certain that if he was able to talk to them, he could make them realize they were wrong in their accusations. The people there were his friends. They would listen to him, would hear him out as he explained. And maybe, just maybe he could learn something about who was truly responsible.

It would be one less thing Robin would have to worry about when the others got back. And Will could prove to the man that he could indeed take care of himself.

He had often been to Locksley since he had been outlawed. He missed the place, even though his family wasn't there anymore. Still, he had gone to talk to the villagers occasionally, not only when they had made drops there. Of course, the village was Robin's home, too, but he wasn't as close to the peasants as Will had been, especially not after spending five years abroad just before being outlawed.

Will smiled as he saw the first glimpses of the village through the trees. His expression turned somber then, as he focused on the reason of his visit today. It was a sad thing that had happened to that family; and he could feel a rush of anger coming up as he thought of the fact that it might not have been an accident.

When he came into the settlement, he wasn't sure where to go first. He didn't know who exactly believed to have seen him that night. Will would have to find out and confront him. The man would realize his mistake then; would see that it couldn't have been Will.

A few moments later, Will's gaze was drawn to one place; he didn't have to think where to go anymore. The ruin stood out, the blackened wood a contrast against the other houses that still held life. Will approached it, seeing it with the eyes of a former neighbor, as well as the son of the carpenter who had built most of this village. Will couldn't understand who could have done this, if it was really arson as everyone seemed to think.

"You!" he could hear a shout from behind and turned to see who it was and if they were addressing him.

"You're the Scarlet boy," the man said then, eying him grimly. Will was sure he knew him, though the man's name escaped him right now.

"I'm Will Scarlet," he confirmed with a nod.

"You're an outlaw , aren't you?" the other said, standing nailed to the spot as he was, keeping his gaze fixed on Will who wanted to reply, but didn't get a chance, before the other went on, "You killed those people."

"I didn't," Will said quickly.

"You were seen running from the first fire," the other said heatedly.

"The first fire?" Will was confused.

"Didn't think it was enough, did you? Had to come back, try again," the man turned his head, and Will did the same to see what he was looking at. Three other men were striding towards them, their faces hardened.

"I caught him," the first then said, and Will realized what was happening, as the man lunged forward to grab him by the collar. Will didn't want to hurt anyone, guessing that it would do him no favour with the villagers, but neither did he want to be brought down by the man, not knowing what his anger might lead him to do.

He grabbed the other's hands, trying to get them away from himself, finally kicking out which caused the other to groan in pain as Will's boot collided with him. For a fleeting moment, Will was free, until someone grabbed him behind. He didn't quite know what was happened, but in a matter of seconds he had been overwhelmed by four men.

"I'm Will Scarlet," he said again, as he was hoisted to his feet. "I came here to talk to you. I'm with Robin Hood."

"So you admit it was all of you? What have we ever done to you? Can you not let us in peace?" he was asked, before someone hit him hard in the face, dazing him momentarily.

"It wasn't me. I didn't burn down that house," he answered, his mind working even as he recovered from the blow. Two men were holding down his arms, so he could not defend himself. "I didn't burn down any houses. Why would I? I'm from Locksley, I'm one of you!"

He looked into the faces of the men in front of him, trying to recall who he all knew. They were laborers; one of them had even worked together with his father, as he had built many of the cottages in this village.

"You were seen," the same man said. "I knew your father, and I know you, Will Scarlet. I don't understand…"

Will looked at the man. What was his name? "Harold," he remembered, watching him still. "It wasn't me. You know I wouldn't do something like this; my father-"

"We haven't seen hide or hair of him since you lot were outlawed. Did he send you here?"

"My father is dead. The sheriff killed him," Will returned bitterly.

"God rest him, and save us from beasts like your kind who come to hound us here, when we have sorrow enough," the man shook his head.

"I didn't-it wasn't me," Will swallowed, but he was beginning to realize that all words were in vain. Coming here had been a bad idea, and still held fast in the grip of the men he wondered what would happen next. He had seen men angry enough before, and knew what irrational thoughts could bring. He had been caught all before he could figure anything out. And Robin was headed towards Nottingham; he would not be around to save him this time like he had the last. Suddenly he felt as though his stomach had fallen in on itself, and he struggled to suppress his fear, all the while trying to slip free of the arms that held him.

"What are we going to do with him?"

"You're condemning an innocent man," Will tried once more. "And whoever did start those fires, he's still out there-"

"We have the one responsible," the man watching him said, his eyes still cold. Suddenly one of the men holding him spoke, a dark edge to his voice.

"We should tie him up, let him burn like what happened to the others. Let him see what they suffered through."

The suggestion frightened him anew, pulling in vain to escape. He let out a breath, meeting Harold's eyes, pleading with his own. They couldn't do something like that…but yet he could remember when they had tried to drown another, when a man had tried to burn down the church. They were capable of anything, and there would be no one who would try and stop it.

"No," the word was almost a joy to hear, but it was short-lived. "We're not like him. Hold him for the sheriff, for Gisborne. He'll be along soon enough, and then he can decide what will happen with this outlaw. Tie him up in the barn, and watch him. He won't be running away this time."

**TBC**


	6. Chapter 6

******Thanks goes to Neaptidea for the beta**

* * *

**Chapter Six**

It was nearly noon by the time they passed under the gates and into Nottingham. That thought alone worried Robin, his heart seizing in fear as they scurried inside, pressing themselves up against the walls and into the shadows. His eyes searched the town frantically, reading the faces of the peasants and guards that wandered by, going about their daily tasks. From here he could not see the gallows, and he could not know if it was already too late.

Had the sheriff known about Marian, no doubt he would not have waited long. But there was no proof, other than Allan's word, that what had happened, had actually happened. The man had already betrayed them, and more than once, had sold out secrets and endangered them all. Why now would he want to help? The thought that it was a trap was with him, ever the more now that he stood here in the shadows and watched.

"Master, what do we do? They are guards all over the place."

Much's voice was thin, pressing. He could hear the worry, could hear the same concern that he felt. They could not just stay here, and hope for a chance to slip by unseen. Too much time would be wasted, and if they stood here for too long, they were bound to be caught. Robin searched the town, seeing an opening in an alleyway, a few yards beyond where they were standing now. If they could reach it, the corridor would lead them closer to the castle. Robin knew that he must go in first, to confirm Allan's story, before he endangered everyone else.

"We can go up through the front," Allan suggested, his breaths heavy. He was tense, worried. Robin could only wonder on how much of it was an act. The thought that he was potentially being played angered him, sending a white hot fury that he had to suppress. Allan might be lying. But he also might be telling the truth.

"How do we know you're not just trying to trap us?" Much demanded, trying to sound smug as his lips pressed together tightly. There had never been a fondness between them, and Allan's betrayal only seemed to widen that gap.

"We'll go around, come in from the south end," Robin decided, having already thought it over. That was the quickest way in, and towards the dungeons.

"But the south side is teeming with guards," Allan protested.

"That's where we are going," he repeated, with more firmness this time. He would not be swayed, least of all by a traitor. They would play this game his way, rather than following the other blindly. If there were plans, a trap of some sorts, Robin would not walk into it willingly. Surely Vaysey knew he would not, and had some other trick up his sleeve, but they would deal with that when and if the time came. For now, the would do as he said, and enter from the north.

"We'll all be caught if we go that way-"

"Well then, you shouldn't be worried," Much cut Allan off, scoffing.

"I'm a wanted man," Allan reminded him, "They know I warned Marian. I had to run!"

"And I'm sure you tried your hardest to get her out safely as well," Robin snapped.

"I tried, but she wouldn't come. She made me go, said I had to get you. It wouldn't do any good if we were both caught."

His brow furrowed as he turned away, lips twisting into a scowl. As much as he didn't want to believe what he was saying, it did sound like Marian. He almost hated her for it, hated that she had stayed behind, and instead allowed Allan to go free. Why could it not have been the other way? Marian would be safe, and Allan would receive everything he deserved. Robin pushed past the man, heading to the edge of the wall, watching as another group of guards passed by, oblivious to the group of outlaws just beyond the fading shadow. Soon there would be no cover for them, when the sun passed directly overhead. They had to move.

"What's the plan?"

Robin pointed, as Much knelt near him. The others, he knew, were watching, waiting for him to continue. He took a breath, and did so. "We head down the alleyway. That'll lead us to the center of town. We'll need a distraction. I want you and the others to cause trouble when we get close, lure the guards away from the courtyard. Don't press your luck; once you have them on your tail, get out of there."

"What about you?" Much wondered, nervously glancing back to where Allan stood, "and him?"

"Allan will be coming with me."

He wanted the man there, so that he could be aware of the first sign of trouble. The best place to keep a threat was right in front of you. The worry in Allan's eyes was evident, causing Robin to pause, wondering if it was fear he was seeing. Fear at being caught? Or fear of Robin's wrath when things went ill? That would be pondered on later. With a nod of his head, they hurried for the alleyway, in groups of two when the guards had their backs turned.

When they reached the center of the town, Robin headed toward the front, falling in step behind Allan. They came to a pause near the portcullis, waiting with baited breath for the signal. It came a moment later, in a burst of yells and cries that flooded the marketplace. There was a flurry of footsteps, guards running past to intervene, to bring everything to a stop. Robin pushed Allan forward, the man taking the hint and quickly rushing in the opposite direction of the commotion. He followed, slipping inside the courtyard only moments after. They were in the clear; for now.

The courtyard lay empty. But it wouldn't stay that way for long. Not with the ruckus just beyond. Soon this area would be teeming with guards. And Gisborne and the sheriff, no doubt, wanting to see what all the commotion was. Allan was motioning for him to follow, apparently having the same idea, and wanting nothing more than to be gone before they did arrive. Robin, however, had other matter to take care of first.

Allan was caught off guard as Robin grabbed him, slamming him against the wall that was nearest. His voice was low, deadly even, as he spoke, the threat more than clear.

"If this is some sort of trap, you won't live long enough to regret it," he warned, breath hissing through his teeth.

"There is no trap," Allan replied, trying to pull free. "Trust me."

Trust. Robin scoffed. The man had a lot of nerve, asking for that. This wasn't the time to debate that. They had to get in, and get back out, all the while rescuing Marian, and not running into trouble themselves. Robin let go of Allan, motioning towards the door that was nearby. Already he could hear more guards approaching. It would do best if they made haste.

Robin paused long enough to turn back, eyes searching out the market. He couldn't see the others, and hoped quietly that they had made it to safety. Turning back he followed after Allan, hoping that he too, would be safe, and Marian as well.

Once they had made it inside, Robin realised that they would not only have to free Marian, but Edward as well. If Allan had actually told the truth, this was probably the reason why Marian had not fled, and would not do so unless she could free her father, too. She wouldn't choose to leave him behind, no matter the danger it cost her.

Robin had an uncanny feeling when they sneaked along on their way to the dungeons. He couldn't suppress the thought that Allan was leading him into a trap and that Vaysey would be laughing at him. But then he couldn't risk Marian's life on the suspicion. And this was what the sheriff could build on. He wasn't sure how much the man knew about how close they still were, but now that the man knew about her being the Nightwatchman – according to Allan at least – he could guess that they were allies. And Robin Hood wouldn't abandon an ally, even less so one of his own.

"How do we get in?" Allan whispered then.

"You tell me," Robin returned irritatedly. He was blaming the man, there was no question about that. Either the man was leading him into a trap, or he had caused Marian to be found out. He frowned impatiently. "I have a plan."

"And what is it?"

"You go in first," Robin determined. "We trust the guards don't know yet that you aren't with the sheriff any longer. And maybe you still are," he added grimly. "Go ahead."

"I-"

"You could have thought about that before you sold us and Marian out to Gisborne."

"It wasn't on purpose," Allan defended himself.

"Go." Robin motioned into the direction they had to go to get to the dungeons. Allan moved hesitatingly, glancing back at Robin whose cold expression finally made him continue on. Robin followed behind a few paces later, ready to flee if it was necessary. But nobody hindered them in getting through the door that led to the stairs that would take them down to the cells. It was only at the staircase that they met a guard, or rather that Allan met a guard, for Robin kept himself hidden in the shadows.

"What're doing here?" the man asked.

"Just checking," Allan shrugged uncomfortably. "Sheriff's orders."

"It's not your job, is it?" the guard was confused, but watched only as Allan made a move to march down the stairs.

"Sheriff wanted me out of his sight," Allan made up. "Better than hanging at least, eh?"

The guard nodded just as long as it took for Robin to sneak up to him and hit him over the head with the broad side of his sword. The man fell to the floor unconscious, and Robin motioned with his sword for Allan to move on. Allan vanished downwards and Robin took a few moments to remove parts of the guard's uniform as well as his helmet. When he arrived downstairs as well, wearing what he had taken from the man, Allan was already waiting for him nervously. The man clearly didn't want to be caught here. Or he was a good actor, which was probably true as well, considering he had fooled Robin and all of his men for months.

"Where's the jailer?" Robin asked.

Allan pointed into the shadows and Robin could make out the man who was sleeping with his head on a small table there. The keys that were lying on the table as well where just what Robin wanted.

"I'm getting the keys," he said. "You go and figure out where Marian is."

Robin moved to the table, as Allan turned down the corridor, disappearing into the darkness. He wasn't sure how well he liked that fact, but kept his focus on getting the keys without being caught. It wouldn't be difficult, the reek of ale was more than evident that the jailer had drunk himself into a stupor. And Vaysey wondered how outlaws were able to meander through the dungeons so easily.

He followed Allan a minute later with the keys in his hand, catching up to him only a minute later. He had come to a stop next to a cell and Robin remembered it was the one where Edward was being held.

"What are you doing here?" the man wanted to know, looking at Allan. "You are with Robin Hood?" he added after a moment.

"He was," Robin corrected him, approaching the cell. "I'm here to free you…and Marian." He said the last part quietly, watching Edward's face for any indication that this might be a trap. But his expression was grave, and a sound near him peaked his interest.

"Robin?" he could hear her speak up, as he was opening the door to Edward's cell. Allan was truthful in at least one aspect. Robin was relieved to know that she was actually here – and not at a yet worse place, and he hurried to open the door to where she was held as well. He brought her into a quick hug, thankful she was still alive, but then the realization that they still had to get everyone out of here, hit him. For all he knew, this could still be some sort of trap.

"Do you have a weapon I can use?" Marian asked him as they walked to where Edward and Allan were waiting.

"I don't plan to fight our way out of here," Robin said, uneasy at the idea. He and Marian could handle it fine, but he worried for Edward, and about Allan. Her father was frail, and wouldn't be able to hold up on his own, and Allan…there was no telling when and where his loyalty would end. True, he had gotten him down here, but Robin could still not shake the unnerving feeling he had, the thought that the sheriff and Gisborne were near, and waiting for them all.

"We might not have a choice."

Robin shook his head. "I'm going to lead the way." He unsheathed his sword again, and moved on, Marian behind him, Edward and Allan following after. Robin had them wait as they reached the stairs, moving up on his own to check the corridors above. Another guard would not give him a second look, only seeing another guard, and it would give him time to make sure there was no one waiting to spring a trap on them. Once he was sure, he gave a whistle, waving a hand impatiently.

They were lucky and didn't have to fight anyone on their way outside as Robin had hoped. He hurried along the hallway away from the dungeons, still knowing Marian behind him. It was only when he saw Much's face and slowed down so that Edward could catch up, too, that he noticed that Allan was gone. Whether the man had left voluntarily or because he had met trouble, he couldn't be sure. At this point, he wasn't too concerned. Marian was safe, as was her father.

"Where's Allan?" came the question not from him, but from Djaq who had turned up alongside of John, coming to a stop next to Much. The group was crowded in a far corner, near the entrance to the courtyard.

"Did you notice any trouble behind you?" he asked Edward.

The man shook his head. "He was right behind me just a minute ago. He must have fallen behind when we left the castle."

Robin nodded. He turned to Much. "You and the others need to take Marian and Edward back to camp. I'll be there when I can."

"Master-"

"Go," Robin told him, seeing that not only Much didn't like the order, but Marian just as little. He held their gaze, moving to John next, who nodded his head in understanding. The man placed an arm around Marian's shoulders, moving her away. Her father moved to follow, helped along by Djaq. Only Much stayed behind, protesting one last time, trying to get Robin to come along.

"Master, we must leave!"

"I give you my word, I will meet you at camp," he reassured him. Robin knew of his worry, but he also knew there was something else he must do.

He had to take care of Allan...

* * *

He wasn't stupid. Allan knew that Robin would take action once things were done. Right now he was counting on the fact that Robin would be distracted, focused on getting Marian and her father to safety. Hoping was a better word.

It hadn't taken much effort to fall behind. Robin had kept up a hurried pace, and though Edward had gone more slowly, Allan had gone even slower. Soon, when he turned the corner, the evidence that he had been following anyone, was now gone. But just because he was safe from Robin, did not mean he was safe where he was.

Here, in the castle, there was still the chance he would be found by Gisborne, the sheriff, or a guard who knew what was going on. He had been lucky with the first guard; most likely the guards about the castle, and the market knew that he was trouble. But perhaps the sheriff had not spoken directly with the man that guarded the dungeons. After all, it wasn't a course of action normally taken by him.

Allan wasn't sure if it was guilt, or the lack of it, that bothered him. He wanted to convince himself that he would have gone down to help someone escape, if it were Marian, Robin, or one of the others. He wanted to believe it. But he was no Robin Hood. That much was apparent. If he was, then he would be with the man, instead of running from him.

A larger, more pressing question that was starting to occupy his mind was the simple fact of where he would now go. The earlier thoughts of heading south, to Portsmouth, returned, and he still fancied the idea. Robin wouldn't follow him that far; he wouldn't want to leave his precious shire. Or Marian, now that she was once again with him.

Allan bit back the bitter feeling as he made his way along the corridor. He should be happy for Robin. They had a successful escape; Marian was safe, as was her father. They would be able to be together, and Marian no longer used as bait in the games the sheriff so enjoyed tormenting Gisborne with. Yet, as hard as he tried, he could feel nothing but jealously. He wanted Robin had. And Allan knew he could never have any of it.

He had tried to be an outlaw; miserable at the conditions, at the lack of honor and glory. What good was it if you were always risking your neck, and still was forced to sleep in the dirt like a common thug? And castle life, though it had better in commendations, seemed to be far more dangerous than the previous occupation. Now, he had nothing, and nowhere to go but a dim thought in his mind.

Allan came to a sudden stop, backpedaling quickly into the shadows. He had almost walked straight into them, the guards who were still headed this way. With nowhere to go but the way he had just come, Allan found himself almost at run. One good thing he had learnt from Robin was how to run without causing a racket. It was proving quite useful now.

Once he felt he was ahead far enough, he slowed his pace. He would have to find another way out. Once in the market, he would be safer. Allan sped up his pace, eager to reach his destination. Anywhere would be better than here. The thought gave him courage, enough motivation to keep going. It all disappeared as he rounded the next corner.

Allan once again found himself backing up. This was unexpected. At least, unwanted. Try as he might, he couldn't hide the fact that the other man had seen him. Allan was hurrying down the corridor, his stomach seizing as he heard the chatter of the guards. They were still heading this way. And Robin was coming from the other direction.

Quickly he weighed his dilemma. There was the chance that the guards were clueless about what had happened. Allan had always relied on his quick wit and smooth tongue to get out of situations. Added in the fact that Robin Hood was here, it could prove the distraction necessary to be on his way.

On the other hand, it was possible that the guards knew about Allan's betrayal, and were out searching for him now. They would know he helped Robin, and wouldn't think twice about forgoing him for the outlaw. Perhaps his chances were better with Robin. The man was angry, but he had helped in freeing Marian. He had brought him in the first place. Technically, he was the reason she was even still alive. Surely Robin would understand that.

He found himself turning, just as Robin closed the gap between them. "Robin, I-"

Allan stumbled at the first blow, tasting blood. Maybe he deserved the hit, but he hadn't been prepared for it. Regaining his balance, he pulled back quickly as another came. There was no wondering if Robin was angry with him. He ducked the next one, spinning around the man, reaching for his sword.

Robin was faster; he was always faster. Allan found himself pressed against the wall behind him, blade against his throat. He had been in this position more than once, but it didn't make it any more comfortable.

"You're going to kill me, after all I've done?"

"Yes," the answer came without hesitation. But if he was so certain, then why had he not done so already?

"You wouldn't even have known about Marian if I hadn't come to tell you. I didn't have to, but I did," he reminded Robin, hoping to sway him some. The flat of the knife was pressed firmly against his flesh, forcing him on his toes.

"They wouldn't know about Marian if it wasn't for you. I knew I shouldn't have trusted you. I should have done this a long time ago."

"Robin, I swear I didn't" he meant to explain, to beg, to plead for mercy. He didn't want to die, and he hadn't meant anyone any harm. There wasn't a chance to do so, the guards rounding the corner just at that time. What they saw must have baffled them. They stood, perplexed, before suddenly crying out, ordering them to surrender.

Robin could have slit his throat; there was enough time to do so. For whatever reason he didn't, Allan didn't question it. There was relief, as he sank against the wall, a hand to his throat, checking for injury. Robin had taken off, darting around the corner. Allan soon followed, at a more unsteady pace. Soon though, he was running. The guards were close behind, still yelling their orders as if saying it certain many times would suddenly make their suspects surrender.

Allan stopped short, nearly losing his balance as he came around the last corner. Robin had come to a full stop in the middle of the corridor, staring straight ahead. Allan could see why. Another number of guards were coming, had spotted them as well. And soon, the guards from behind would close the gap. Allan found himself swallowing, glancing both ways.

"What do we do?"

Robin scowled, but didn't answer. Allan wasn't sure if he expected one. He had just naturally fallen back into the role of being one of Robin's men. There had been many scrapes the man had gotten them out of. This was only one more.

Robin pulled free his sword, preparing himself for a fight. Allan did the same. It was foolish to think he could talk his way out of this one. Not after already having fled. The guards wouldn't buy it; not even they were that dull.

"I'm sorry, Robin," Allan found himself apologizing, although he wasn't sure what for. The first betrayal. The last? The unintentional one? Or maybe for everything ill he had done.

"No time," the man cut him off. And there was none. Robin dodge forward to meet the first group of guards, blocking a sword headed straight for him. Allan followed suit, but with the other group coming in from behind. There were three of them here. Perhaps five, or maybe six that were facing Robin. Again he had that unsettling feeling that he would not come out of this alive.

He ducked, and dodged the blades coming his way. But he couldn't avoid the fist, or the foot. Not with so many around. Allan found his head spinning, his feet stumbling as he tried to block another blow. The force of it knocked him to his knees, and in short moments, he was disarmed. One guard held him at sword point, the other, fastened a bond around his wrists, binding his hands behind his back.

Behind him, he could hear Robin struggling. He too was being bound in a similar fashion. Allan met his gaze briefly, frightened by the dark, and cold glare that was sent his way. If Robin had not been happy before, then now he was furious.

"Take them to the dungeons, and send word that we've caught Robin Hood, and Guy of Gisborne's man."

Allan was hauled to his feet roughly, just as Robin was. The guard shoved him ahead roughly, laughing as he nearly lost his feet. "Not so high and mighty now, are we? Gisborne had you too overrated. I knew you were trouble long ago."

He felt his cheeks burn. Robin had accused him of a similar thing just moments before. There was really nowhere for him to go, for him to really belong. That was hardly a matter of choice anymore. Allan knew where he was going. And when the sheriff found out he was there, Allan had a feeling that fate he would face would be far worse than whatever Robin could have done to him.

**TBC**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

He never remembered Locksley being that uninviting. Yet he never had been accused as killer before either. Will had pleaded with them, had begged for them to listen to his words. But all had turned a deaf ear and blind eye to him, scowling with remarks and bitter hatred. A few had brought words of remorse, shaking their heads and muttering 'poor fellow' or 'shame, life in the woods must have gotten to him.' After a while, Will pretended not to hear. They had kept him locked up in the barn until their master, Guy of Gisborne had returned.

Even now that he found himself in the dungeons of Nottingham, Will felt himself scoff coldly. Had the people here really forgotten who their lord was? Or was Robin simply a fantasy? Guy might hold power there, for the time being, but Robin would always be Earl of Huntington. Will wondered if the people here even remembered all that Robin had done for them. Will couldn't forget; Robin had saved his life. And with Robin, he and the others and fed and supplied Locksley in the hardest of months, had saved many from torture, from death…now none of that seemed to matter.

It didn't matter what was to happen to him. Robin and the others didn't even know he was here after all, but Will wondered if the people of Locksley would come to tell them. He wondered if their anger at the gang would be over now that they had caught Will, or if it extended to all of Robin's men. And he wondered about the fires; they were not responsible, despite what the people said. Yet if they were not, then who was?

Will leaned back in the dark, coming to rest against the wall behind him. A sound coming from the left side told him that the entrance to the dungeons had been opened again, and so soon after he had been brought here. Will had been taken here from Locksley only a short time ago. He still wasn't quite sure yet if they were aware that he was one of Robin's men. The villagers had probably told Gisborne though. Maybe they had even received a reward for his capture. Will had been hopeful that Robin, or any of the gang for that matter, would have seen him. Maybe it was them, coming for him.

Will frowned deeply as he watched the torch being carried towards him. They were several people coming, but they didn't come to a stop where he was. Instead they moved further along and Will saw that it weren't only guards. Robin and Allan were being dragged with them.

It was a blow to the guts to see them, causing him to wonder how they had been caught, and why they both were down here.

The gang had gone to help Marian after Allan had claimed she was in trouble. He didn't know if they had succeeded to help Marian, didn't even know if she really had been in trouble or if it had merely been a plot to capture Robin, one Allan had been involved in. But if it was a trap, then why was Allan being held prisoner as well? Surely the ploy didn't go that far?

Will watched as Robin and Allan were thrown in the cell together at the other side of the hallway. The guards left, and no sooner then they had, that Will could see Robin taking a swing at Allan. The man went down with a groan, clutching his cheek, moving to get to his feet again. Robin looked as if he was considering to hit him again.

"Robin!"

This stopped the archer effectively. He turned towards Will, but wasn't able to see him until the younger man moved out of the darkness forward into the dim light of the distant torch. The bars were cold against his grasp, but not as cold as the glare that was given by Robin.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was caught in Locksley," Will admitted, knowing already that Robin wouldn't like the idea of it.

"I thought I told you to stay at camp."

"I went to hear about the fire," Will argued, although he knew he could not deny anything Robin was saying. This wasn't the time or the place to point out hurt feelings, or spout of about being left behind.

"I gave you an order; you disobeyed me," Robin replied in the same, hard tone. The man was angry, at him, at Allan, or at their current predicament, Will couldn't be certain.

"There was another fire," he said quietly, trying to change the topic at hand.

"Another?" the change of Robin's tone was easy to hear; it perked his interest. "Tell me?"

"I don't know much about it. I went to Locksley, like I said before, to find out what happened. They were angry, a family was killed. Then they said something about a second one; I don't think the first was from the storm."

"Nor do I," Robin agreed.

"The sheriff doesn't think so either," Allan chimed in, picking up on their conversation. "I mean, he wanted to blame you lot, but he knows you haven't done it."

"Of course he does," Robin scoffed. "Anything to make us look bad."

"Then he wanted to blame the Nightwatchman. That's how it happened, I mean, I didn't mean to give her away, it just came out," Allan confessed quietly.

"What about Marian?"

"She's safe," Robin answered, "the others were able to get her and her father away from here."

"And you two?"

"Caught by guards," Allan sighed. "I almost forgot what it was like on the other side."

The man backed away quickly as Robin turned towards him, fist raised. Will called out again, hoping to distract him. He too was still angry with what Allan had done in these past months, but fighting about it now helped no one.

"We know Marian wasn't responsible for the fires. So who is?"

Robin paused where he was, watching Allan for a time before finally turning back to Will. "I don't know. And until we can get into Locksley, and speak with the villagers, I don't think we'll ever find out."

"I've tried talking," Will pointed out. "They don't want to listen."

"Because they still think you're responsible," Robin reminded him. "They're not rational, they need time to grieve. That's why I didn't want you there."

"Wait? Why do they think it's you?" Allan asked.

"We can't just sit around and wait while someone burns down the entire village, Robin. Locksley's my home."

"Locksley's my home too."

"But I know the people there, better than you. You went off to war, remember? A lot changed while you were gone."

"That doesn't change anything-"

"It changes everything. They're your people, but they're my friends!"

"Some friends," Allan was laughing. "Tied you up and handed you over to Gisborne. I'd love to meet them."

This time, Will didn't even try to stop Robin as he turned on the man. He would have most likely done the same, had he been with them. Allan was holding his own, dodging from Robin, backing himself into a corner before Will called for him to stop.

"Robin. The others; they don't even know we're down here. Do they?"

The man was silent, but soon he shook his head. Will had figured as much. It meant that they together would have to come up with something. This would not mark the first time they had faced such odds. Already he was trying to think. But he didn't get that far.

The dungeon door above was once again opened. Light flooded the passage, the movement of footsteps sounding through the stairwell. Will took a step back, watching through bars with bated breath. At the other end of the room, he could hear Robin speak, his voice quiet.

"Maybe it's the others coming for us," he suggested.

Will hoped it was, but didn't think it was very likely. Even Robin himself had said the others did not know they were down here. And if they were trying to get Marian and her father to safety, they most likely were occupied. It was confirmed as the torch was seen, the light casting shadows amongst the walls. A group of guards, and at the forefront, were Gisborne and the sheriff.

"A little bird told me that we had company," the sheriff greeted them, coming first to a stop in front of Will's cell, and then moving down to where Robin and Allan were being confined. "Look at that Gisborne. Your little doggie did exactly as I said he would. Now we have him, and Robin. And thanks to your loyal peasants, we have another one of Hood's men. Not quite all of them, but it will do for a start."

"Milord, what about Marian?"

"Are you missing the leper already? Don't fret, Gisborne. I have guards combing the town as we speak. Her and her old man won't get far. They have special reservations at the gallows."

So it was true. The sheriff did know about Marian helping them. Allan had been truthful. Though Will wasn't sure how that benefited any of them at the moment. He didn't like the thought of going back to the gallows, having been there once already. As had Allan.

"While we wait for them, we shall entertain ourselves," the sheriff spoke again after the brief pause. "Take him," a finger was pointed towards Allan who was in the back of the cell, and then the sheriff turned towards him. "And him as well. And don't let Hood escape in the meantime."

"I will guard him personally, milord," Gisborne noted quietly, even as the guards began to move to follow orders given.

"If you harm him, I will kill you," Robin threatened, poised and ready to strike. He was unarmed; he wouldn't stand a chance against the swords.

"Robin, I'll be fine. It'll be okay."

Will was trying to reason with him, wincing as the first two guards worked their way into the cell. Robin did not surrender, but Will hadn't ever expected him too. There were a couple of blows exchanged, but one finally sent Robin to his knees, gasping for air as Allan was restrained behind him. When the door closed the man was alone, watching from where he knelt, shaking his head. He was cursing, trying to distract them.

Will forced himself back into the corner of the cell, unwilling to make this easy. He didn't much like the idea of the sheriff's entertainment, or what would be in store for him when they did get him out of the cell. It would happen, he knew, but he wasn't going to just surrender. Like Robin, he too fought, but soon became overwhelmed, forced on his stomach as his hands were bound behind his back.

Will managed one last glance back towards Robin, who stood now pressed against the bars, watching as the others departed. The last he saw was blocked by Guy of Gisborne, who had stepped in front of Robin, already starting to speak. What he said was lost on him, and Will was forced to keep his attention ahead, for whatever might come.

* * *

"Where is she?"

The question caught him off guard. He was too engaged on what was happening on the outside of his cell. The blow to his chest still hurt, he still found himself short of breath. He had to get out of here, had to get back to Will, save him somehow. But what could he do when he was being guarded, and now interrogated.

"Who?"

"You know who," Gisborne answered quickly. He had stepped closer to the bars, lowering his voice. Still he was too far to reach, limiting Robin's options. It was doubtful that anything he did would change anything; Guy was smarter than the average guard.

"I know you came for Marian. I know she was helping you."

"What does it matter to you?" Robin was searching the cell, glancing behind, to his side, everywhere for something that might help. There was no telling what was happening with the others.

"The sheriff wants her."

"He can't have her; neither can you," Robin added the last part. He saw the change in Gisborne's eye, the fury that was there. Guy's infatuation with Marian was well known, and Robin hated every part of it. She claimed to have feelings for the man, as a friend, but sometimes Robin wondered if there was more there. Gisborne deserved none of it; what she saw in him, Robin would never come to understand.

"I want…" he began, but fell quiet, struggling with the words. What he said next was quiet, almost so that Robin could not hear what he was saying. "I want to make sure she is safe. I've paid for safe passage, for her and her father, to Kirkless."

It almost caused him to laugh. "You paid for safe passage? Why?"

Gisborne didn't seem the type. After all, he had claimed to do the same for his own son, and had left the child in the forest to die. What was this then that he was proposing?

"Contrary to your belief Hood, I do care for her."

"So you burn down her house? Keep her as a prisoner in the castle? It sounds like you do."

"Those were orders from the sheriff; I could not go against him," Gisborne was quick in defending himself, but Robin hardly desired to believe it.

"Yet you do so now, and you tell me about it. Why?"

"Regardless of how I feel about, Marian will see you before she sees me. She would be a fool to come back here, and I know you'll find her. When you do, take her to Kirkless; she'll be safe there."

"And how am I supposed to do that, when I'm locked down here?"

"You'll find a way out," Gisborne seemed confident as he pulled back. "I have other matters to attend to."

"If you hurt him," Robin warned, but his voice fell short as the man didn't even pause to look back. Instead he wet his lips, shaking the bars in frustration. He was down here alone, unarmed and without even half a plan on how to get out. Will would be counting on him, but Robin knew that he was counting on himself more. He would not forgive himself if the man came to harm while he was locked away here. The quarrel the sheriff had was with him, not Will.

He gave the door another, firm shake, before falling to his knees in frustration. The others, with any hope, would indeed have Marian and Edward to safety by now. He suspected that Much would return, the man hardly ever heeded orders given to him, always confident that something would go wrong. Most of the time it did, and the thought brought a smile to Robin's lips.

Now if only the man would hurry. The longer Robin stayed down here, the more he begun to worry.

They were taken from the dungeons, along the corridors and towards the Great Hall. Why they were chosen, Allan wasn't sure, but he didn't like the concept of it. No, he would much rather have remained behind, while Robin and Will were fetched away. Did that make him a coward? Perhaps, and rightly so. The Sheriff of Nottingham was not one you wanted to garner ill wrath from. And Allan was certain he had done so already.

Not only with Marian, and his attempt to warn her, but in bringing Robin and the others back to help free her and her father as well. He was certain that whatever waited for him on the other side of the door, wasn't a bountiful feast and a large purse of money for his efforts. Now, with every step, he was beginning to wonder if it would have been simpler to let Robin kill him. At least it would have been quick.

The Great Hall had been rearranged. Where the large tables spanned for feasting now sat nothing, the tables pushed to one side and chairs and stools stacked on the other. It left a large, open expanse of space in the middle of the room, to where they were both taken. Will, still bound, was forced to his knees, hands bound in front, and a sword that went through his shackles and into the cracks of the stone below, effectively holding him there. Allan had expected the same, but was perplexed when his bonds were freed, and the grip loosened on his arms.

He pulled away quickly, stumbling into the open area, taking a quick check of his surroundings. Guards blocked the stairwell, the door, the only way of escape. Several more stood at the ends of the room, hands on weapons, waiting for the signal should it be given. The sheriff stood at one end of the room, a proud smile on his face.

"Allan, don't look so glum," the man started, smiling still. "After all you've done; we should be thanking you."

The door above opened, and Allan glanced up warily, noting Gisborne's arrival. He wondered what that meant as far as Robin was concerned. He wasn't certain if he was hopeful if the man was still alive and unharmed, or merely worried at what Gisborne's presence here meant for him.

"Thanking me?" he sputtered, swallowing. "Why, I didn't do nothing."

"But of course you did," the sheriff was quick in countering him. "Why, if it wasn't for you, we wouldn't have a clue who the Nightwatchman is. Now that we know, we can double our efforts into finding her, and bringing her justice. And on top of that, you brought us Robin Hood."

The praise was unexpected, and at this point, unwanted. He could swear by the look Gisborne was giving him that the man wanted to throttle him. And Will looked none to please either. So far, he had held his tongue, but Allan could only imagine what he might have to say when he decided enough was enough.

"Well…I'm glad, glad that I could be of service. If you don't mind, I think I'll leave now," he started for the stairs, but backed off quickly when Gisborne stepped in his path. "Or maybe I'll just stay here, for a bit."

"You see, Gisborne and I are having some difficulty in figuring out where your loyalties are. There are instances where you have lied, and if I didn't know any better, you helped Hood and the others free the leper, and her father. We can't have that going on."

"I-" he found himself short on words, unsure what exactly the sheriff was getting at. What did the man want him to do?

"So tell me, where do your loyalties lie?"

That was an easy one to answer. "With you, of course."

Vaysey seemed to think this over, hands pressed together, just below his chin. He made a small humming noise as he circled the room, passing near him. Allan could feel the hairs on the back of his neck sticking up, a shiver running down his back as he tried not to flinch.

"Perhaps you can prove that you are indeed loyal," the sheriff laughed suddenly, and Allan liked the sound of that even less. Vaysey came to a stop on his right, no longer looking at him, but instead towards Will, who had until now, been ignored.

"This man here, one of Hood's vermin, was arrested in Locksley earlier today. He was burning down houses; killing poor, innocent villagers. He was, shall we say, caught 'red-handed'?" the man laughed at his own joke. "What do you say to that?"

"I…I don't think it was him," Allan answered quickly.

"You don't think?"

"I mean, not bein funny, but, why would he, what does he have to gain from it?"

"We don't care why," Vaysey informed him quietly, the coldness apparent in his voice. "What we do care about, is that he is properly punished. These 'crimes' cannot go unchecked. He will be hanged, but first he must be made an example of."

"I'll not kill him," Allan answered quickly. That wasn't what he had intended when he first came here. To make a little money, to have a place to sleep, food to eat, and not to mention the mead. He would collect taxes, take care of business, order guards around…certainly. But the sheriff was mad if he expected him to start killing. He wasn't like that.

"Oh don't worry your pretty head about that. We know you don't have what it takes to be a real man. Just think of it as a little…practice. Yes…you're just doing a bit of a chore, that's all."

Vaysey had walked around him again, had gone to one of the guards who stood off to the side. Something was exchanged, and when the sheriff came back around, he was unfurling a long piece of leather, shaking the handle to get out the rest of the kinks. It was cold as it was pressed into his hand, the whip a little heavier than what Allan had expected. He felt his heart quicken a little, pounding inside his chest. They couldn't be serious.

"Don't go too easy; you'd be surprised on how much effort you can put behind each stroke before they start screaming."

Allan shook his head, handing it back quickly. "I don't do torture."

"You'll do torture, or you'll be tortured," came the warning. The whip was held back out towards him, the meaning clear. Allan glanced towards Will, unable to read his face. The man hung his head, avoiding any contact, but he could see how tense he was. Allan slowly grasped the handle, lifting it, testing the weight.

"Just a few will do, at least for a start. Once you get going, it's hard to stop," the man laughed. He had stepped back, hands clasped behind his back, a large grin on his face, waiting for everything to start. Allan felt positively sick. He turned towards where Gisborne stood.

"Guy, you can't-"

"You heard the sheriff," the man cut him off. Allan hadn't thought there was much of a hope, but he still tried. He glanced around, trying to read the faces of the guards. Some seemed eager, others disinterested.

"We can always let Gisborne take over," Vaysey suggested, "and you can join Hood's rebel in his fate."

His grip was so tight in almost hurt. He didn't want to do this, but the alternative was not a comforting thought. Again the question of cowardice came up, the thought of what Robin would do to him when he found out. And Will…he still considered Will his friend, even if they did have a falling out. Most of that was on his part, not Will's. And Will was not to blame, but that hardly mattered. The sheriff simply wanted his fun. Allan began to wonder that if he did do this, if he would even be allowed to go free. It seemed unlikely.

"I'm waiting," the warning came. Allan lifted the whip, just slightly, his heart still pounding. He couldn't do this, he just couldn't-

"Just do it, Allan," Will snapped angrily, breaking the tense silence. It spurred him into action, without thought. He raised the whip above his head, and brought it down quickly.

**TBC**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

There was no sense in debating it. The sheriff would have them both flogged, and hanged, had he not gone through with it. Will didn't blame Allan. He knew the choice placed before him, and didn't want him to suffer as well. More importantly, if Allan could somehow regain their trust, then there was still a chance, for both him and Allan.

The man had made mistakes; unforgiveable mistakes, but that did not mean the man could change. Djaq had spoken about it with him before. Shortly after Allan's betrayal was known. She still believed in the man, believed he could change given time. Will hadn't been so certain, but the fact Allan had come for them when Marian was in trouble, gave him hope. But first, he needed to pass this test.

Will had tensed at the crack of the whip, but the scream that sounded in the air was not his own. He looked up quickly, startled, for suddenly the entire room had turned into chaos. Allan still held the whip, wielding it like animal trainer, striking at the guards who came to close. Behind him, Will could see Gisborne draw a sword, moving in to put an end to it all.

There was not a lot of room in which he could move. But he could still move some. Will turned quickly, stretching out a leg, and striking Gisborne from behind. He caught the man in the calf, a hard solid strike that tumbled the other without warning. More guards were joining the fight, orders being screamed by the sheriff to catch him. Will grabbed the hilt of the sword, trying to force it free. The blade held fast, forcing him to try a second time.

It took a third before he got it, dropping the blade in order to pull it free from the chains. Will was quick in seizing it, ducking a blow that came his way. He couldn't see Allan from here, could only guess, by the way the guards around him fought. The shackles made things difficult, hindered him from fighting properly. He had to make to do with dodging more than striking, but he could feel the effort taking a toll on him.

Then he saw Allan, the man now with a sword rather than the earlier whip. He was near halfway up the stairs, fighting with ease, having the upper hand. Will met his gaze, shaking his head when the other motioned for him to follow. There would be no way he could get through that, bound as he was. And if Allan came back for them, they would both die. Allan understood, or at least Will hoped he did. The man hesitated no more, barreling up the rest of the stairs, engaging the two guards who stood at the front of the way out.

Will turned his attention back to the battle at hand. So far he had disarmed three of the guards. Several more had been taken out by Allan, but that left still a good five, or maybe six. It was hard to count with all that was going on.

Something hit him from behind. Hard, sharp, just below the shoulder blade. Will let out a cry, stumbling to his knees. His vision wavered as he was hit again, this time in the back of the head. The sword fell from his hand, swooped up by Gisborne no sooner had it hit the ground. The cold tip of blades could be felt, two at the back of his neck, one at the front. He wondered if they meant to kill him, or wait for later when he could hang.

"What are you doing?" the sheriff screeched, waving his hands as he stomped over the room. Will hadn't noticed until now that the man had somehow disappeared during the height of the battle. But now that things were under control, Vaysey had no reason to hide anymore.

"He's getting away. Find him!"

"I'll send a party out after him, milord," Gisborne told him quickly, breaths coming in short bursts.

"You'll do better than that, Gisborne," Vaysey sneered. "I want him. I want him to hang, and you'll bring him back for me. Now get going!"

Guy nodded quickly, sheathing his sword, and turning, motioning to several guards to follow as he made his way up the stairwell. Will was still pinned where he was, trying to catch his breath, and praying the ground would stop moving something soon.

"And take him back to the dungeons. He'll hang in the morning."

* * *

The ground was cold beneath his knees, hard and pressing against the cloth, small inconstancies cutting into his skin. That he hardly paid attention to, focused instead on the task at hand. The space between the bars were hardly large enough for his arms to pass through, but he had managed. The pick which he had found, a piece of old metal brittle enough to pry free from the rest of the cell, was now embedded into the lock which held him prisoner.

The odd stance left him sore, straining to hold his balance, and yet attempt to work the lock free. For a fleeting moment, Robin wished that Will was here. Picking locks had been Will's expertise, not his. Still he tried, grimacing at how the metal tore at his hands when they slipped. He couldn't see what he was doing, only trying to judge by the feel, by the sound. If he could work it in a little further, somehow jam the lock, maybe get it to move…

Robin pulled back quickly, light flooding the dungeons as the door was opened above. He swore shortly after, realizing only then he had broken the metal with his hasty retreat. Part of him doubted it would have done any good. But it was better to try then it was to sit and do nothing. He could only imagine what was being done to Will while he was locked up down here.

Robin didn't have to wonder for long. He could see the guards fighting with someone, having a time just trying to get the man to cooperate. The door of the cell near him was swung open, creaking on old hinges, and in the next moment, Will was shoved inside. The man landed hard on his knees, and Robin could hear his heavy breathing, watching as Will braced himself with his hands as the door was closed, and securely locked.

"Enjoy your time while you can," one of the guards taunted him. "In the morning, we'll see you both dangle."

There was laughter at the crude joke, the guards leaving them behind in the darkness as they went about their merry ways. Robin wasted little time, sliding up near the edge of his own cell, studying the man who was not too far away. From here, Will seemed to be unharmed, aside from minor blemishes, and winded from the recent activity. But he wanted to be certain.

"What happened? Are you alright?"

The two questions came out together, almost at the same time. Will took a moment to compose himself, leaning against the prison wall before he answered.

"I'm fine. Allan escaped."

"Of course he did," Robin answered dryly. The man had taken off at the first chance of freedom before; why would he wait this time?

"He could find help."

"Unlikely."

"He came for us when it was Marian," Will reminded him. Robin didn't need the reminder, he could remember well enough on his own. Still, it was the man's fault they were even here.

"But now we're down here, and he's up there. It's different. He won't risk coming if he feels there isn't a chance. And as far as we know, this entire thing could have been a setup."

"I don't think-"

"Trust me, Will," Robin cut him in mid-sentence. "This isn't the first time he's betrayed us. Or have you forgotten?"

The man was silent, and Robin was certain he had made his point. It was up to them to find a way out, rather than wait here for someone who wasn't going to come. He closed his eyes, trying to think. Will was better with locks then he was. Surely the man could find a way out. Robin was about to suggest so, but failed to get the question out before Will answered his previous question.

"Allan wasn't the only one to betray us. I did too."

"How?" Robin's mind was no longer fixated on finding a way out. Rather now it was intrigued on how Will had come to this conclusion. The man might have disobeyed him, but that hardly counted as a betrayal. It made things more difficult…but Will had only been doing what he had felt was right, and Robin could blame no one for feeling that way.

"I tried to kill the sheriff. Or did you forget?"

"That was different," Robin was quick in correcting him. Where Will was going with this, he couldn't be certain. To compare this, to all that Allan had done, and was still continuing to do, was outrageous.

"How?"

"You had your reasons."

"Allan had his reasons too," Will offered quietly. "Whose to say that mine were any better than his?"

"You weren't trying to get us killed," Robin argued, "Allan sold us out to Gisborne, he could have killed us all, could have been responsible for the death of the king. That's treason."

"I could have killed everyone in Nottingham."

Robin knew that to be true. That was why it had been so urgent to get the remedy to the sheriff. He hadn't wanted to think of what might have happened had Will been successful. Lives could have been spared by evacuating the town, but the market would be lost, people would be without homes, and the villages would have suffered greatly. Even so, Robin still held his belief. It was not the same. Will had been under pressure, struggling with grief from losing his father, and acting on rage. Allan had been driven by selfish impulses. There was nothing similar about them, not in the least.

"If we get out of here, Allan won't have anywhere to go."

"Suits him," Robin answered, pushing the thought from his mind. "And we will get out here. If you can reach the lock, you might be able to open it."

"I can't pick the locks down here; they're too strong."

"You've done it before, with the chests, remember?"

Will nodded, but he still seemed unsure. "I had my tools then, useable material. I don't have that here, not now."

"We have to find something, then. We need to be gone before morning comes."

Will nodded again. "Any plans?"

Robin sighed. "Not even half of one. Maybe it's our best bet to be ready in the morning. Once they take us out, we overwhelm them..." Robin knew chances for that were slim, without any support or any weapon, and with all of the sheriff's men around.

"We need help."

Will didn't say but Robin knew. "Allan." Another possibility might have been Marian, but she was thankfully away now, too. Robin shook his head. They were on their own; Allan wouldn't come back.

"Let's look around for anything we might use to pick that lock. I've had a scrape of metal before, but I broke it, when they brought you down," he said.

Will crouched down, looking around and Robin followed his example, reaching and feeling for anything that might be of use. After a while he stopped, but saw that Will was still searching. It was then the door above was opened again, and they still didn't have a way out. As he could make out the silhouette of the jailer moving slowly down the stairs, Robin had an idea.

"Will," he hissed quietly. "Stop moving," he said, as Will looked up to him.

"What?"

"Just lie down and don't move, but not like you're sleeping."

Will looked at him hesitatingly for another moment but then he nodded and did as Robin had told him.

Robin himself leaned against the bars, doing his best to let himself slack. His arms hung loosely, and he tried to be as still as possible, hoping that Will would do the same – and that the jailer would fall for it.

His eyes closed Robin could only try to gauge by the sounds whether the jailer was approaching them or not. It took a few moments and then he could actually hear the steps of the man coming closer. Robin almost stopped breathing in an effort to be convincing. He didn't know what the jailer would be thinking when he saw them like this, but he hoped the man was stupid enough to check...

It was the hardest thing to remain still when he felt the man stop closely next to him. Robin now held his breath completely, and his eyelids fluttered as he fought against the urge to move. Then he could feel the touch of the jailer against the pulse on his throat. In a split-second Robin reached out and grabbed the man around his throat, strangling him and pulling him against the bars that held Robin and Will on the other side.

The man sputtered, fighting.

"Where's the key?" Robin asked, fighting to keep a hold of the man, as Will came up next to him.

"It's at his belt," Will told him quickly, and already reached out for it, as Robin kept struggling with the jailer. After some moments, Will managed to retrieve the key, and pushed it into the lock, just as Robin finally let go of the jailer. The man stumbled backwards, slumping down against the wall at the other side, while Will pushed the door open and he and Robin rushed outside, leaving the other man behind in the course of moments.

* * *

Allan had gotten halfway through Nottingham before he had come to a stop. His heart was pounding, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. He was somewhere in an alleyway, towards the entrance of the town. Given a little time to rest, and to think, he would be able to come up with a way of slipping out without much problem.

Try as he might, he couldn't convince himself to leave. Both Robin and Will were still being held captive. Allan felt himself swallow, trying to still the shake in his hands. He could still here Will's voice, the words burning in his head. How could he have done that? To anyone let alone someone he considered a friend. Or once a friend.

Allan knew he had made mistakes in his life. Going to the castle was just one among the many. But leaving his friends behind was perhaps the worst. Not that he had much choice in that matter. Robin had banished him from the group. That he supposed was his own fault, for feeding Gisborne information. But what Robin didn't understand was what had led up to it all. Robin never understand, never bothered to even try and understand.

Allan balled his hands into fists, righting himself in the passageway. If Robin had listened to him in the first place, they wouldn't have been caught. Truly, it was no one else's fault but Robin's own for being where he was. And Will…it was unfortunate, but what could Allan do about it?

It was time to leave, to go on his way. Marian was safe, and Allan had held his part of the bargain. No harm had come to her from his doing. Allan began to walk, feeling more relieved as time went on. His duty here was done. Robin was sure to find his own way out. The man usually did. Of course…Allan had told the sheriff of quite a few ways the outlaws had used to go in and out of the castle. He bit his lip, coming to a stop again. What if they weren't able to get out…

Around the corner he could see the gallows. He knew who they were meant for. His hand drifted up, rubbed the side of his neck. He also knew who they could have been meant for. Allan swallowed, and pulled back quickly. He shouldn't feel guilty. Robin wouldn't come for him. Hadn't come for him. So why should he be concerned about the man himself.

Sheepishly, he found himself admitting the reason. Robin was his best chance now. Sure, he could go elsewhere, try and start a new life. But his life was here, the people he knew…there was nothing for him outside of the shire. He could try and stay, could hope by some chance that Robin would let him come back. He had more of a chance with the man than he did the sheriff or Gisborne. Especially considering what he had done earlier.

So it was decided. He would go back for Robin, and Will. If he helped the two escape, then surely Robin would forgive him. Had to forgive him. And then he could be back with the lads, like nothing had ever happened. But now he needed a plan. How exactly would he get the two out?

Bells around him sounded suddenly, and Allan froze, hardly able to breathe. They had found him, were sending up alarm. It took a moment to gather his bearings, to realize that wasn't the case. No one was around him, the alleyway silent and still. The commotion was coming from the courtyard, stampedes of boots hitting the ground heavily. Allan moved quickly to the end, peering around, watching as several groups of guards raced through the town. And Robin and Will were at the forefront.

So they had escaped. At least the dungeons. If they would make it from the town…

Allan moved quickly from the alleyway, darting behind a large stall that had been used for business just the day prior. All the merchandise was still there, stacked in large crates and barrels, but the owner was nowhere to be seen. Worked fine for him. Allan heaved his shoulder against the closest stack until it began to tip, and ran quickly to do the same to another a few feet down. He could hear the shouts of alarm, the cries of surprise as the heap went tumbling over, end over end into the oncoming guards.

Allan paused long enough to watch the destruction unfold, to see Robin and Will slip past, and through the gate as the guards stumbled, trying to regain their footing. Then he grinned, glad to see them escape unharmed, and was quickly moving on his own again. After all, he too, had to find a way out. And had to come up with a plan to convince Robin to let him come back, and be a part of the lads once more.

**TBC**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

They had seen to Marian and Edward's safe passage. Marian wouldn't have had it any other way. Her father was old as it was, and his stay in the dungeons had not been particularly kind. John had been able to secure a cart, borrowed from a farmer, while Much had gathered the horses. The provisions that were packed were few, but it would be enough for them until they reached the next village once outside of Nottinghamshire. Where they would go, Djaq wasn't sure. How Robin would take the news, she was even less sure.

But they had done what had been asked of them. Marian and her father were both safe, and with a little luck would come to no ill tidings on their journey. Marian had promised to return, and speak with Robin herself once things were taken care of. Yet she had a feeling that would be some time before it would actually come to pass. And Djaq worried.

Not just about Marian. The lady would be busy, no doubt, on the run, and taking care of her ailing father. But Djaq's mind was concentrated on other things as well. She was worried about Robin. She had not seen the man since they had left Nottingham. Yes, he could take care of himself, this she knew. She could also remember the look in his eyes and what he had said. She worried about Allan.

The man was a traitor. Back in her homeland, he would have been treated far less kindly. Perhaps Allan deserved what was coming, but Djaq still felt he was a good man. She didn't want to think what Robin might do, even though a part of her knew what he would do already. Allan might have betrayed them, might have betrayed Marian, but it was because of him that she was saved.

It felt right to her. Allan had made a mistake, had taken the steps necessary to fix everything. Why couldn't Robin see this as well? Now that Marian was safe, Djaq longed to head back for the castle. Foolishly she was hoping there was enough time to get him to change his mind. But by now it would be too late. Whatever Robin had done could not be undone. And despite how she might argue with him, she knew it was his right. Robin had allowed Allan a chance before, many chances before it seemed. The thought did not make it rest any easier inside of her. What more, Will was nowhere to be seen. The man had been angry this morning at being left behind. He had wanted to help, and Djaq knew they probably could have used his help. True, they had done just fine without him, but it had felt odd to go to Nottingham and not see the man a step or two behind. Now that they had returned to camp, Djaq had been planning on speaking with him, helping to ease his anger, and perhaps speak more about the fire that had taken place in Locksley.

She knew he was not guilty. Despite what others said. It was something she could not only feel, but also see in his eyes. Will loved the people of Locksley almost as much as Robin did. Perhaps even more, it felt like. But maybe that was her personal feelings intermixing with rationalization. She did love Robin, like she loved the rest of the group. However, there was something different about Will.

So it was a disappointment not to see him at camp when they returned. Robin had instructed him to stay, but knowing Will, the man must have left shortly after they did. He had been leaving quite often as of late. Heading into the forest at night. Sometimes she had almost followed, but had given into sleep instead, deciding whatever it was, it might be personal business. It might be the same now.

She sat down at the base of the hill, starting a fire before heading up the slope. Much was already busy in the kitchen, the smell wafting through the air and leaving her hungry. No doubt that he too was trying to distract himself.

Djaq collected one of the large pots they had stored in the back, grabbing the pouch from her bed as she passed back by. There was still time in the day to experiment with more potions and brews. One could never have too many remedies, especially given the life they were currently living. None of them were injured now, but there was no telling when it might come to that, or what they would need. But mostly, it served as a distraction. A rather good one.

It wasn't until she was handed a plate with supper that she realized how much time had passed. Much and John were both quiet, but she could clearly see how tense they were. There was still no sign of Robin, and Will was nowhere to be found. Her appetite had all but left, and she could see the same was for the others.. She let out a sigh, setting the plate on the ground.

"John?"

The man met her gaze, and she didn't have to ask more, for the man was nodding already.

"We go find them."

They collected their weapons, put out the fire, and concealed the camp, taking every precaution that was necessary as they headed out. They didn't have to go far. Half a mile down the forest trail, they were able to see the first signs that travelers were nearby. Djaq crept low, concealing herself behind some foliage, peering to see who it was. Her anticipations melted away, a smile crossing her face as she moved to her feet the next moment. Much too, had seen who it was.

"Master!"

Robin acknowledged them with a small nod, a grim smile on his face. Will was nearly in step with him, caught in conversation with the other. They both fell silent however as they drew near. Djaq wondered how Will had ended up with Robin, or where the man had even been. But she didn't question him, instead drew him into a hug which the man returned briefly before pulling away.

"Marian?" Robin was curious, and Djaq swallowed, unsure of how to answer. She was spared by that, Much already ahead of her.

"She left, with Edward. She did say she was coming back though."

Robin nodded. "Good."

"What about Allan?"

Djaq wasn't sure she wanted to know. But part of her decided that not knowing was worse. Robin's gaze was hard, and he shook his head, pushing past them so he wouldn't have to answer. Djaq turned to Will next, but suspected he wouldn't know more than she did.

"He's alive," Will answered, much to her relief.

"You were in Nottingham?" She was surprised; if Will had followed, why hadn't he found them earlier?

"Not by choice," the man admitted. "Later…we have other problems right now."

"Problems?" John was curious. He had stayed behind with them. Much had gone ahead, catching up with Robin.

"There was another fire in Locksley. They still blame us…well, me, I guess."

"More fires? But why?"

She knew the first fire could have been caused by the storm. But there had not been another storm since. Could it have been another accident? Or was someone truly burning houses down? Djaq turned to Will, but the man shook his head. He motioned in the direction Robin had taken, and she could understand what he meant. Robin would have the answers, or at the very least know what they should do next.

* * *

Gisborne knew this would be a bad meeting. The sheriff had called for him directly, and he had feeling of what it was about before he had even gotten there. And the sheriff was fuming.

"Tell me, Gisborne, that they didn't get away?"

Gisborne stood where he had entered, biting his lip before he finally shrugged. He had been more intent on finding Allan, than paying attention to what had been going on around him. The wretched little rat had nearly gotten him with the whip. A few inches closer, and it would have hit him right across the face. He could still remember crying out in surprise, and some in fury. It had been a bad idea to arm the former outlaw. He had even warned the sheriff about it. Not that the sheriff had ever listened to him before.

"I had three of them, all there, in the dungeons. I was going to have a hanging. A glorious hanging in the morning. I was going to be rid of Hood…and now…they are all gone. And the leper…her father…"

Gisborne apologized, but not as heartfelt as it should have been. He knew Hood would find a way out. Had counted on it. Marian was gone; there was a good chance he wouldn't see her again. But he would rather have that than to watch her hang. While she was alive, there was still hope. One day, when he surpassed the sheriff, he would send for her, and have her as his bride.

"What is that sniveling smirk for, Gisborne?"

He hadn't even realized he had been smiling. Quickly he masked it with a cough, and came up with the first excuse he could muster. "I was thinking of what we would do when we did capture them again."

"And how do you plan on accomplishing this impossible feat? You can't even control a leper, let alone an outlaw."

Gisborne bristled at the comment, but did not respond to it. Instead he cleared his throat, explaining his jumbled plan and hoping it would make some sort of sense. "Allan won't stay away for long. There's nowhere for him to go. When he comes back, I'll deal with him personally. We'll put an end to everything; I promise you, milord, that he'll lead us to Hood's camp."

"I hope for your sake that you're right," Vaizey warned him. "Now get out of my sight. I have important business to attend to."

Gisborne did not need a second invitation, taking to the halls. He was certain Allan would be back. He was even more certain he would find Hood's camp. Then he would have no qualms in killing the outlaw. Marian would be safely away by then. And with Robin Hood out of the picture, it would be a glorious future for him.

* * *

Allan couldn't very well just go barging into camp. Even if he had helped both Robin and Will escape, Robin wouldn't believe him. Will might have something positive to say, Marian too, if she was still around by any chance. Yet he couldn't trust his life on chance. Allan needed something more, something that would guarantee him to get back with the lads.

He slouched a little more in his chair, making sure that his hood stayed up over his face. A quick change of clothes, a stolen purse, and he had found himself here, drowning away his troubles with some ale. How he always managed to end up here, he wasn't sure. But at least he could count on not being found. Gisborne would not assume he would stay around, not after all that had transpired. He took another drink, setting the cup down before lacing fingers behind his head. What could he do?

How could he make Robin trust him again? He had told Robin about Marian. Had helped her and her father escape. Had even gone back for Robin after the man was caught…well, sort of, at least. But was that enough? Part of him doubted it. Robin had seemed ready to kill him a short time ago. Maybe going back wasn't the wisest of ideas. What else did he have?

No…he had to come up with something more. Had to find a way to prove himself. Maybe if he went back there, begged…no maybe that was too much. He could simply ask…but Allan wasn't sure he was ready to do just anything. Who knew what Robin might think of?

"Did you hear…outlaws…escape?"

Allan picked up the words, but only intermittently. The two men were a few tables away, bent over their own cups, nursing them slowly. They were locked in conversation, so much so that they did not even notice as Allan moved closer to where they sat. Allan had a good feeling about what they were discussing, but wanted to make sure for his own sake. The talk of the town was the best way to know what was going on, without getting your own self in trouble.

"I heard they got away, alright. No good for any of us, mark my words," the other man responded, clearing his throat with a round of heavy coughs.

"Why do you say that?"

"Them burning the houses down there, back in, what was it? Locksley? What do you think they will do next when they're ain't nothing left to burn?"

"Rubbish, the outlaws haven't burned nothing," the first defended, to which Allan agreed. Even the sheriff had admitted privately that Robin and the others were not responsible for that. What would they gain from it anyway?

"Not what the sheriff says."

"And since when has the sheriff said anything true? He says outlaws do everything, and then something else always comes up, and it was never outlaws in the first place. Besides, I heard that Thomas Bennet's house was burnt down last."

"Never heard of him."

"Yes you have. He used to live here, up until recently . Selling remedies, claiming to be able to cure the sick. Turns out he was the one making them sick in the first place. Then he goes and sells the cure, and guess who's a hero?"

The other man nodded, as if understanding now. Allan couldn't remember hearing about a man named Thomas Bennet before. He figured the sheriff could have brought such a person up. Maybe it was before he came to the castle…

"I remember now. Moved off to Locksley, did he?"

"That's right. He killed a few people, wanted to start a panic, earn some extra money. There's a lot of people who would want him dead, I think. He had it coming to him, you know he did."

Allan rubbed his chin thoughtfully, taking in the information as the two men began talking about something new. Back when they were in the dungeons, Robin hadn't a clue to who was responsible. It hardly sounded like this Thomas Bennet was, more like he was the victim. But if he had grudges held against him, it would be a start in finding out who might be responsible for the fires. Already he could feel himself smiling, thinking things over.

Robin would have to take him back now.

* * *

Will was angry. Not only did Robin still blame him for disobeying, but he also would not listen to reason. Will supposed the first issue was true. He hadn't stayed at camp like Robin had wanted him to, but by going to Locksley he had learned of something important.

Up until now, they had only heard of one fire. Had assumed it was incidental, caused by the storm on that same night. But with another, they could be certain that someone was responsible. And Will hated the fact that people were blaming him. Robin had to understand how he felt. The man had been blamed once before, when Joderic was killed. Will had never much liked the bailiff, a lot of people really hadn't, but there were few who had wished the man to be dead.

Robin had gone through, had done what was necessary to clear his name. Why could he not do the same here? Why couldn't Robin understand that Will wanted to be proved innocent as well?

"We can't prove that you are innocent until we catch the killer," Robin let out a sigh. He was still angry, but what about particularly, Will couldn't say.

"We go back to Locksley," he started, but was cut off by Robin.

"If we go to Locksley, the people there will still blame us. They will not listen to reason. They're afraid, and people do strange things when they're scared."

Will noted easily how Robin had avoided pinning anything on him individually. Will knew the people did, but it was easier for Robin to pretend it was all of them. Maybe part of him was right. The villagers did seem to associate them all as one group. He let out a sigh.

"We have to do something."

"And we will. First we have to find out who's responsible for the fires."

"How? If you won't speak with them-"

"We need to find out who would benefit from the fires."

"The sheriff," Much offered from where he sat. "He's always looking for ways to make you look like a criminal."

"Yes," Robin replied dryly, "But this isn't the sheriff's way."

"Of course it is," Much wanted to argue. "Or Gisborne…he did burn down Marian's house, remember?"

"Burning, maybe. Not killing…"

"This is the sheriff we're talking about, remember?" Much pressed.

"He wouldn't benefit from just killing people, not unless people truly believed it was Robin's doing," Will interjected, understanding what Robin was trying to say. "The people there believed they saw me. They're weren't told who was responsible."

"What about Gisborne, then?"

"He wasn't in Locksley that night," Robin shook his head. "There are far easier ways to pin blame on a bunch of outlaws rather than going through such lengths. I don't think the sheriff or Gisborne are involved in this one. Not this time."

"Who else then?" Will was desperate to know, "Who else would benefit from burning houses down?"

"I might have an idea."

The cheerful voice was sudden, unexpected, and Will wasn't the only one to reach for his weapon. All of them were armed in just short of a second, Robin taking the lead with his bow ready. Allan stopped where he was, holding hands out to his sides to show he was unarmed. Robin seemed to pause for a real long moment, as if considering something, but Will could see the man was checking the surroundings. Satisfied that Allan was indeed alone, Robin lowered his bow.

"What do you want?"

"I…uh, have some information you might find useful. About the fires."

"Tell us," Robin demanded. His voice was still cold, his gaze still hard. Will knew this was another reason why the man was so angry.

"I will…if you promise me something."

"We don't deal with traitors."

Allan seemed to consider this, shrug, and then turn to leave. "Right then. Good luck in finding out who's starting the fires. I hear the sheriff is starting a campaign to make the _killers_ pay. I hope you find them before the sheriff finds you."

"A campaign?" Much's voice was tense, the worry clear on his face. "Master, what does he mean?"

Will could only guess. They had been chased before, hunted by dogs and men. How far would the sheriff go this time?

"Robin, maybe we should listen to what he has to say," Will prompted. The man held his ground, shaking his head.

"Listening to what he wants can't hurt," he continued to push, turning to watch as Allan walked even further away. "He's been with the sheriff, with Gisborne. He might know something we do not."

"So we tell him what our plans are? Then he'll go tell the sheriff. Is that what you want?"

Will shook his head. "He won't-"

"How do you know?"

"Trust me," Will answered. He took a breath. "When the guards took us away, the sheriff wanted Allan to torture me. He wouldn't. You might not trust him...but I do. You do trust me, right?"

"You disobeyed me earlier," Robin reminded him coldly, but the edge was gone in his voice. Will found himself smiling.

"You knew that I would."

Robin gave a nod once a moment had passed, agreeing to it all. "Fine. We'll listen. But we make no promises."

**TBC**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

It felt good to be here, strangely enough. He had figured it would be awkward, considering how the last few times had turned out. The fire burned before him, the food nice and warm. Nothing close to what the tables at the castle had to offer, but still, beggars could not be choosers. And Allan had to admit that he sort of missed these meals. The tough meat, the dried berries…maybe not so much the taste, as it was the memory. He hadn't felt this way in a long time .

He took a swig of watered ale to wash down what he had eaten before, clearing his throat before he started. He knew what the others were waiting for, and he knew that this might be his one chance to convince Robin into letting him back in with the group. He had to play his cards just right.

"The sheriff knows it isn't you,-"

"That doesn't come as any surprise," Robin cut him off. "The sheriff only claims it was me. Anything he can use to make us look bad only gains favor with him. Of course he's going to try and blame me."

Allan nodded. This was true. Still, he had hoped that it would ease the man's anxiety by telling him this part of the truth. He wanted Robin to be calm. Wanted him to be in the best of possible moods. In order to get back with the gang, he needed to be in Robin's good favor. He took another drink, trying to calm his nerves.

"I overhead something at the Tripp-"

"Enjoying yourself?" Robin raised an eyebrow. "While Will and I were be prepared for the gallows, you were getting drunk?"

"I had it in mind to come back for you," Allan defended himself, earning a scoff from the other. "I did, honest. But by the time I tried, you were already away from there. No sense in going in after something that's not there, is there? And what was I supposed to do?"

"What did you hear?" John cut in before anything could be said in response. Allan wasn't sure if he was grateful for it. There were times when Robin irked him, when all he wanted to have was the final say. But he guessed that now was not that time. He wanted to come back here…he needed to come back here.

"There was talk about the fire. The last one; the house was Bennet's. Thomas Bennet."

"So?" Robin shrugged, shaking his head. "The night before it was a different house, a different family. What does it matter who?"

"Thomas Bennet?" Will spoke up, and Allan nodded in answer. Robin was watching the younger man. "I remember him…"

"I don't," Robin declared soundly. In truth, Allan didn't either. He would have to agree with Robin on this one.

"He was a nuisance a few years back," Will explained, "I think you were gone then, with the war."

"Yeah," Allan perked up, "didn't he, like make people sick or something?" He was desperately trying to remember the exact words he had overheard.

"He was posing as physician. Competing with Pitts back in Nottingham. People would start to get sick, and Pitts couldn't find out what was wrong. Bennet came in with some cure, offered a remedy, and cured them. He grew popular for a while, almost put Pitts out, but after a while, Bennet's remedies stopped working. So they went back to Pitts for their treatments."

"Why is that important?"

Robin was listening intently, his face hard. But he was quiet, and listening. Allan took the opportunity to speak up.

"I thought he killed some people. Not just cured them."

"He did," Will agreed. "Some sort of epidemic started to spread after that. My dad was worried we'd come down with it, considering how many times we went to Nottingham to make the deliveries for the sheriff. Many were sick, several died. It was found out later, I don't know how, that Bennet was responsible for making them ill in the first place. The sheriff had him arrested. We expected him to hang, but the sheriff let him go. I wager a deal was made between them. Whatever happened, Bennet packed up, and moved to Locksley. We were worried, but he never seemed to bother anyone. I guess we forgot he was even there."

It was slightly painful for Allan to hear the story, and know that he would never know the people as Will did. Allan had always been on the move when he was growing up. No real place to call home, and no one to call a neighbor. There wasn't much that had changed.

"I still don't see how that has to do with anything," Robin argued. "Whatever he did, it was years ago. Why now, if someone is holding a grudge?"

"There were people sick," Djaq spoke up suddenly. "In Locksely, a short time ago. You remember?"

Allan found himself nodding, even though the question had not been directed at him. Guy had been high strung, had taken a lot of it out on him. The man had complained about a fever going around back at the village. Allan hadn't thought much of it until now.

"You think he might have tried something again?"

"I don't know," Djaq answered him. "I just know they were sick. I helped some of them, but I didn't have enough to give. When we came back later, they were feeling better, but there was a man who died."

"Who?"

She shook her head. "I do not know the people very well, Robin," came her meek apology. The man merely nodded, letting out a sigh.

"I will go to Locksley. Maybe I can find out who it was that died."

"I'll go with you," Will offered, but Robin turned him down quickly.

"I'm going alone. I know who will know, and I don't want to draw suspicion. The village is still uneasy, probably even more so when they hear we've escaped."

"But we've never hurt them before," Much spoke, "Why are they angry at us now?"

"They are afraid," Robin answered. "Fear makes people do strange things. Stay here, I'll return as soon as I can."

* * *

He didn't much like the thought of leaving Allan behind with the others at camp. But Robin didn't trust he would leave on his own, and the group would hardly force him to leave. Djaq had always held a soft spot for the man, and even Will had seemed to warm up to him in the recent day. What Will had told him also stuck, but somehow Robin wasn't surprised.

Allan wasn't cruel. Foolish, maybe, but he didn't have it in him to be callous simply because he could. What truly happened, Robin was convinced, was that Allan had run purely because he was a coward. There was no nobility to it, but Will felt as though there was. There would be no arguing that matter, at least not right now. The first issue, was finding out who was behind these fires.

He had told them to stay behind for more than one reason. The first of course was because he didn't want a repeat of what had happened earlier for Will. The last place they needed to end up at was in the dungeons. It would do none of them a favor, and the arsonist would still be on the loose.

The real reason was because he still didn't trust Allan. What were the odds that Allan ended up in the tavern at the same time a pair of random men were discussing the fires? Unlikely at the best. So how then did Allan truly know about Thomas Bennet, and the possible connection with the fires? The fact was simple; Allan was still working for Gisborne. An elaborate trap, but a trap none the less. Will might be easily fooled, but Robin was wary. The lack of caution was what had gotten him into trouble before; he would not be taking his chances again.

Locksley was as it always seemed. Quiet, and serene, a home he truly loved. Robin stood on the hill above, watching with longing as the people worked. One day. One day he would return, and be able to take care of his people honestly. When the king returned…

He shook off the thought. Whether that be tomorrow, or months from now, he had bigger things to focus on. Robin made his way down the hill, sneaking into the back of the village. It was easy to skirt along the houses without being seen, it was almost a habit now. He paused outside the door, listening and watching. Gisborne was not here. Quickly, he moved inside the house.

Hannah was in the kitchen and the woman took a fright when he first came in. But in seeing him she let out a breath, and smiled, welcoming him inside.

"Haven't seen much of you," she greeted him. Robin returned her smile with one of his own, but did not meddle with idle chitchat. How much time he would have he didn't know, and he wasn't going to press his luck.

"Is Thornton around? I must speak with him."

She nodded, understanding as she tilted her head. "He's out back."

Quietly he thanked her, leaving the room and slipping through the doorway. Thornton was where she had indicated, working on the wood from a fallen tree that must have come from the storm a few nights ago. The axe splintered the wood as it came down, the man grunting as he tried to free it. His efforts stopped suddenly when he sensed he was no longer alone, and he looked up quickly.

"Master Robin?"

"Thornton," he gave a warm smile. He missed the man, and there wasn't a day he felt regret for leaving him in the current situation. However, there was hardly any other choice. Thornton would not abandon Locksley, no matter who the lord was.

"Gisborne is due to return tonight, I don't know when…"

"I'll have gone by then," Robin reassured him. His business here would not take long. "What do you know about the fires?"

Thornton frowned, shaking his head. "I know people are scared. Hannah hasn't slept, she fears Locksley Manor will be next. I tell her she's foolish, but with all that's happened, it is possible. I worry too."

It was reasonable to worry, but Robin had never thought his home to be in any danger. Anyone would be a right fool to set fire to the manor while Gisborne was in Locksley. "Tell me, do you know a man by the name of Thomas Bennet?"

Thornton nodded. "It was his place that burnt down. He was lucky, though. No family, and he got away alive. Harry lost all his family. Terrible, terrible thing in this time. It's hard enough to have a family; and it wasn't even the sheriff's doing."

"The sheriff blames my men," Robin told him quietly. Once again Thornton nodded.

"They believe what they are told. They love you Robin, they do. But they only hear the sheriff. It's hard for them."

"And the sheriff lies."

"Do you think he is responsible for the fires?" Thornton asked, curious now. Robin paused before he replied.

"I think he knows more than what he is saying. Will told me about Bennet, about how he created an illness in order to cure them."

"I had heard about it. That was a long time ago, Robin."

"Do you think he had anything to do with the fever that came last week?"

"Bennet doesn't talk to very many people," Thornton responded quietly. "He does his work, then keeps to himself. But he was out more a few days before it started. Helping out, talking with some of the others."

Robin nodded. That was suspicious, but could mean nothing at the same time. "Who was it all that got sick?"

"Mostly children…you know how it is. One of them falls ill, they all seem to do so. Spreads quickly."

"What about the men?" Robin could remember what Will had said about the man.

"Some of the parents, but that's not so unusual when you have a sick child. I remember when you were young. Every time you caught something, you mother was sick the following week."

He nodded. Of course it wouldn't seem so odd for the men and women to fall ill as well. "Bennet had a cure then?"

"Matilda was able to tend to some of them. The ones Bennet turned away. He was after the money, you see. Matilda isn't bothered by that sort of thing. She helps where she can. You have to live, and you need money to live, so no one blamed Bennet."

"Someone did die, is that right?"

The man seemed to be thinking, but finally he nodded. "He was an older man, if I remember. Could have been sick…yes, I think I seem to remember, he was. But he was getting better. And the next morning…" Thornton shook his head. "Could have been many of things. It's hard to remember correctly, Robin. With the storm and then the fires."

"Do you remember who he was?"

Thornton took a moment to think, before nodding. "I think it was Walter, if memory serves me correctly."

The name sounded familiar, but Robin still had to ask. "Mathew's grandfather?"

Once again, Thornton nodded. Mathew had been a little boy when his father died. They had lived in Clun then, but Mathew had come back to Locksley to live with his grandfather. Robin did not know Walter personally, but he had spoken with Mathew on more than one occasion, due having been friends with his father when they were younger. The thought did not sit well with him, Robin not wanting to believe the boy had anything to do with what had occurred. But he knew that he must look into it.

"I am certain it will be a few hours before Gisborne returns, if you would like something?" Thornton offered.

Robin knew he was hungry; he hadn't eaten anything since that morning, and it had consisted of hardly a full meal, but still he shook his head. He didn't have the time, nor could he afford being caught. He would not place his servants in a position where they would have to tolerate Gisborne's fury.

"Can you tell me where Mathew is staying now?"

"I don't know, Robin," Thornton apologized. "Walter I believe is his only family. He may have gone back to Clun; I know he had friends there. They might have taken him in."

Robin nodded, taking the information in. It would do no good to head that way now; he wasn't likely to find out anything once night fell. In the morning he would make a visit to Clun, perhaps take Much with him as well. There was still the possibility that it was a fool's errand, that all of this had nothing to do with the fires. It could be anyone, even the sheriff or Gisborne himself wanting to frame the outlaws. Or Allan. Robin's eyes narrowed at the thought.

"Master Robin?"

He glanced up, smiling apologetically. "I have many thoughts, forgive me, I did not mean to linger."

He could see the curiosity in the man's eye, but Robin dared not to tell him anything. Gisborne, he suspected, believed that Thornton still kept in contact with his old master, but Robin did not want to turn that suspicion into knowledge. Quickly he bade the man good-bye, and headed back for the forest.

He had only gotten to the tree line when something made him stop. There was someone following him. Robin felt for the sword at his side, curling his fingers around the hilt as he started walking once more. The footsteps behind him were barely audible, but most certainly there.

Robin turned quickly, pulling off to one side, hiding behind a tree. He waited, listening as the footsteps hesitated, then started again, moving closer. Just as they were about to pass him, Robin stepped out, sword drawn, and grabbed his pursuer. He pushed the man against another tree, holding the sword against his throat as the hood fell free.

"Why are you following me?"

"I wanted to help," Allan breathed quickly. There was fear in his eyes, and for a good reason. Robin had threatened to kill him, and more than once. Given more time, he even might have. And here, he could do so again. No one would question finding a body hidden in the forest. Let alone a former outlaw; a recently turned lackey of the sheriff.

"I told you, all of you, that I was coming here alone. Why did you come?"

"I told you, Robin. I thought I could help you-"

"Help me where? Right into a trap?"

"It's not a trap, I swear," Allan babbled quickly. He hadn't moved, wasn't even trying to get away. Instead he stood where he was, perfectly still, hardly even breathing. "I want to help…I…I want to do what's right."

Robin held him for several long seconds, before finally letting go. He stepped back, noting how the tension left the other man's body. Irately he sheathed his sword, crossing his arms. "So now you want to do what's right. What's the problem? Sheriff and Gisborne don't need you anymore? Or did you suddenly grow a conscience and want to make amends?"

"What I did, it was wrong," Allan admitted. "But I'm back now. I can help, honest."

"You can help by going back to camp," Robin told him sternly. Despite what Allan said, the man was not one of the lads. He had lost that privilege already, and there was only one chance.

"You're going to Clun, aren't you?" Allan continued, as though he hadn't even heard what Robin had said. "I overhead what you two were talking about. He won't be there. He's still here, at least, I think he is."

"Allan, go back to camp."

"Robin, listen to me. Gisborne was talking about the old smith's shop. It's been closed up for years, when business ran dry. But someone was staying there. I know, because he ordered me to barricade everything up. He didn't want someone living there and not paying taxes. And I did, but I saw someone, a boy, I don't know who, I don't know the people of Locksley, but he was a boy. He might be the same boy. Where better to go when you've lost your home, huh?"

"It could be anyone, Allan," Robin shook his head. He didn't know if any of it was true, or if it was just another ploy. A trap, as he had suspected before. Heading to Clun was a better plan of action.

"You heard Thornton. Gisborne's still in Nottingham. There won't be anyone here to see us checking. Come on, just trust me on this, alright?"

"Trust?" Robin raised an eyebrow. "You want me to trust you?"

"I know it's asking a lot. But I was right about Marian, wasn't I?"

"You got Marian in trouble," Robin reminded him coldly, to which Allan agreed.

"Yeah…I didn't mean to, but that sort of thing just happens-"

"It wouldn't have, had you not sided with the enemy."

"I had no choice," Allan argued. "And don't say that," he cut Robin off as he tried to speak. "Not everything is a choice. Not when you're poor and have no place to go. It's easy for you, but it's not the same for the rest of us."

"Maybe not," Robin agreed quietly. "But you were the only to betray us."

Allan was silent to that, standing where he was, and then he gave a small nod. "I was wrong. But I'm not wrong this time. Robin, I've learned, I know what I did wasn't right. It's over, and I'm not like that anymore. I want to come home. Please…"

It was a hard decision. Part of him still held to the fact that Allan had done wrong, a wrong that could not be righted. But he knew the others had already accepted the man, had welcomed him back, if only briefly. It was possiblefor Allan to change. Just as it was possible to convince others to join his cause. And in this time, he needed all the help he could get. With Allan having been with Gisborne, and the sheriff, for however short of the time, Robin knew that the man could have valuable information as to what was happening inside the castle.

"You're on probation," he started, holding up a finger as Allan began thanking him. "The slightest indication that you do not have the best of intentions, and I will hold to my promise, and I will not hesitate in finishing you off. Do you understand?"

He could see Allan swallow, but the man nodded, and then smiled sheepishly. "Shall we go see to this abandoned shop, then?"

**TBC**


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven **

He was elated. More than that. Allan couldn't recall a time he had felt this good. The closest thing that came to mind was the day Robin had rescued him from hanging. For the first time in weeks, Allan felt good.

He was back where he belonged. Back with the others, back with Robin. Allan swore to himself that he wouldn't let himself screw up again. He had done that too often, and he knew he didn't have many chances left, if any. The earlier notions of heading south, of starting a new life, were all gone. He was happy with what he had here.

Robin was ahead of him, moving through the trees, staying close to the village. Allan was convinced they would figure out who was responsible for the fires. He was certain the person living in the old smith shop was the same one Robin and Thornton had spoken about earlier. Allan had wanted to head straight there. Robin had other ideas. As much as he wanted to protest, Allan knew he was better off listening to Robin, rather than arguing with him.

They came to a stop at the edge of the forest, where they could see the building, and then they waited. This part had confused Allan, because he was certain that Robin would have wanted to be gone from Locksley well before the sun set. But as night fell, they were still here.

From where they sat, they could see Gisborne return. He came with a number of guards, riding through the village, and heading straight for Locksley Manor. Lights in the village slowly faded as candles were blown out, and houses cast into darkness. Soon, the manor followed the rest. The village before them lay quiet and dark in the night. Allan was almost convinced that they would stay here the entire night, when Robin suddenly spoke.

"Let's go. Stay low, and keep quiet."

Allan had to hurry in order to catch up with him. Robin was wasting no time now, moving down the hill and entering the village. Allan could barely see, but he did well enough to keep up. They wound their way around, staying clear of the main path, eventually coming up to the closed shop. The door was barricaded, just as he had left it. There were no signs of someone having tried to break in. Allan could feel his heart skip a little. Maybe he had been wrong.

"There," Robin caught his attention. Allan could barely see where he was pointing. After a moment, he could. There was a board loose, right below the window. It wasn't very big, but big enough for a person to slip through. Before he could even say something, Robin was pulling at the board.

"You can't be serious," Allan hissed, when the man tried to wave him through. "What if they're in there waiting to skewer us?"

"That's why you're going first," Robin responded, and waved his hand once more. Allan bit his lip, unsure of what to do. He wanted to prove himself to the man, but at the same time, he wasn't sure he wanted to risk his life doing so. Robin did not waver, and so with a sigh, Allan stepped forward.

It was a tight squeeze. Even with Robin bracing the board, Allan could barely fit inside. Once he got in, he pushed on the board, opening it as far as he could so Robin was able to follow. The man crouched, gripping his sword as he waited to see what might happen. Allan felt vulnerable just then, realizing that he had no weapons on him. If there was any sort of trouble waiting for him, his fists would have to do.

"On the wall," Robin was pointing again, and Allan had to squint to see the torch that was there. He nodded, understanding as he stretched up to grasp it. A lot of good a torch did them when they had no way to light it, but still he passed it off to the man. He frowned next then when Robin began striking a flint. Of course he would be prepared. Robin had had far more time and luxury than he.

Soon the smell of smoke wafted through the air, the flame devouring the torch and lighting the area. It was clear to see now that someone was living here. There was a pile of cloths in the corner that was being used as a bedroll. A small cooking pot, some chipped bowls and a broken cup. Not a lot to a name, but there it was all the same.

"I don't see anyone," Allan remarked quietly. Robin agreed.

"At least we know someone is here."

"So we'll come back later, right?" He knew Robin would want to know now that he had seen everything here. To his surprise the man shook his head.

"We wait."

"That could take all night," Allan breathed. He didn't much fancy the idea of being here when the occupant returned. What were they going to do? Invite themselves for tea?

"Better odds of seeing if this someone is still around. Easier than sneaking in and out of the village numerous times in hopes that they might be here."

"Well, yeah," Allan agreed, understanding his point. "But what if Gisborne decides to come poking around here?"

"Then I'll send you out. He'll be happy to see you."

"Very funny," Allan remarked, a scowl on his face. Gisborne would have him hanged, if the man didn't kill him with bare hands, that was. "So we just sit here?"

"No," Robin shook his head. "We wait, back there," Allan saw the brief motion before the darkness surrounded them. Robin had put out the torch, and he could see the man moving to put it back on the wall. Once that had been done, he crossed the room, careful to not knock anything aside. Allan took a breath, and moved to follow him.

* * *

They waited for what felt like the entire night. Robin felt himself drifting more than once, before shaking off the coming sleep. He relied on his training from the war. They would often spend the nights as sentries, having to patrol the area, despite the battles of war the day before. At least then they were able to move. Here, Robin was trying to stay as still as he possibly could.

There would be no telling when the occupant returned. Robin wanted the upper hand of surprise. They would gain no favor in scaring him away before they were able to question him. Or her. Robin wasn't willing to jump to any conclusions as of yet.

Next to him, he could hear Allan yawn. The man had been surprisingly quiet. Robin had expected him to try and carry a conversation, suspecting he had much to say in regards to all that was taking place. Yet Robin was thankful for the fact he hadn't tried. Voices could carry well in the night, even more so inside an empty building. Almost-empty building, that was.

Robin shifted, trying to take the some of the strain his legs. He couldn't very well get comfortable; he didn't think it was possible even if he wanted to do so. The floorboards were old, covered in dust and creaked under the smallest bit of weight. That was why he had tried to still himself, all the more when he heard the sounds outside.

Allan heard them as well. Robin knew he had by the way the man sat up, causing the boards to shift under them. Robin held up a hand, grasping Allan on the shoulder, hoping he would take the hint and be still. He was watching the window intently, could see the flicker of shadows, could hear the board being drawn apart.

The visitor was slowly pulling themselves in. Grunting and groaning all the while as they made the tight squeeze. Feet landed heavily on the floor, the breaths coming in a few strained gasps, before the person made their way across the room. Robin felt for his bow, quietly stringing an arrow. When the light from the torch flooded the room, he moved.

Allan was right. Robin hadn't seen Mathew for some time now, not since he had left for the war. Back then he had been a boy, but now, he was nearly a man, and from where he stood, there was a startling resemblance to Will. Now he was beginning to understand why the villagers had suspected Will in the first place.

There was a bit of shock on the man's face, as he saw the two men approaching him. For a moment it looked like he was going to flee, but then thought better of it, knowing the arrow could travel faster than what he could in trying to get out.

"What do you want?"

"Mathew? You remember me?"

It took a moment, but he nodded. "Why are you here?"

"I think you know why," Robin answered, watching the boy closely. He was nervous, but if that was due to the current situation, or at the fact at being responsible for other deed, he couldn't tell.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"The fires," Robin wasn't willing to play games. He needed to know, and the sooner the better.

"I don't know anything about them."

"Your grandfather, you two were close. It must have hurt when you lost him."

He could see the pain on Mathew's face. Quickly he shook his head, "It wasn't fair. It wasn't his time."

"How did he die? He was sick, wasn't he? I heard he was getting better. So what happened?"

"I thought he was getting better," Mathew admitted. "He said he was. I came home, and…that was it."

"Who was helping him? Someone was. I think you knew who it was too."

"He should have gone to Matilda," Mathew said suddenly, his voice rising. "I told him, told him that I didn't trust Thomas enough. But he and Matilda had never gotten along, they would always fight. He told me everything would be fine. And I believed him."

"Why did you try to kill Thomas?"

Robin expected him to deny everything. So it was a surprise when the boy merely shrugged. "I heard some people saying he had done something like this before. Where he made people sick, only to make them better. If it wasn't for him, my grandfather would still be alive. I wanted him to see what it was like. To choose who gets to live, and who gets to die."

"And the family you killed the night before?" Robin's voice was tight, almost wishing he wasn't hearing what he was now. "Were you choosing then who was able to live?"

"I didn't mean it," he said quickly. "I thought I had the right house. I knew the storm would be perfect cover, but I couldn't see in the rain, and the thunder was loud, and…I didn't know what I had done until the next morning."

"You killed two people," Robin told him quietly. "And you put one of my men in danger. The people here will not trust me, and I cannot help them unless they do."

"I never blamed you," Mathew pointed out. "That's not my fault."

"But you are responsible for the fires."

"It was the only way," he shook his head. "I've never held a weapon before, never…killed anyone before. Setting a fire was easy…"

"It has to stop," Robin warned him. He still wasn't sure what he would do. Will's name needed to be cleared. The villagers had to be able to trust them again. How would he accomplish that without endangering Mathew at the same time? He could understand the pain the boy was going through. Robin knew what it was like to lose family. That was the reason why Robin couldn't bring himself to fully blame him. But neither could he simply let Mathew go. With Bennet still alive, and Mathew seeking retribution, the boy would simply not give up.

"When I'm done, yes," Mathew agreed.

"No. It stops now. What happened was not right-"

"No," Mathew shook his head. "It wasn't. That's why I have to do this-"

"Mathew. How many others will die for you want to accomplish?"You've already destroyed one family. And now the sheriff is out to find who is responsible. If he doesn't find you, he'll blame someone else, who's innocent. And then they will suffer for your crimes."

"How many suffer for yours?" Mathew wondered. "People had their tongues cut out because of you, they've been hanged, and they've been humiliated. Are you the only one who can decide to do what you want, and endanger whoever might be in the wrong place at the wrong time?"

The words struck close for Robin, who knew that all of this was true. But it had never come about because of a quarrel. The sheriff was responsible for punishing those that had been mentioned. They had never come to harm by Robin's own hand.

"I'm giving you a chance," he started once he had regained his composure. "Leave this place, forget about what's happened."

"If I don't?"

Robin tightened his grip on the bow. "I will make you."

Mathew gave no response. Instead he stood, rooted to the spot he had first come in. He seemed as though he was thinking, as though he was trying to make a decision. Then without warning he moved, stepping forward, and thrusting out his hand.

The torch went sailing and Robin had to pull back to avoid being hit with it. All of it happened so quickly, before he even got his bearings, and when he turned back, Mathew was already sliding out the hole. He could smell smoke, the torch rolling in the bedding, Allan tried to stamp it out furiously. Robin moved to help him, turning the cloth in on itself, effectively extinguishing the flames. They were cast in darkness now, but Robin wondered if the grim expression on his face was the same on Allan's.

"What do we do now?"

"We follow him," Robin breathed. He didn't have more of a plan than that. Somehow he had to reach Mathew, had to make him understand what he was doing was wrong. That it wouldn't bring his grandfather back. He coughed, bothered by the smoke that still lingered in the air.

"Make sure that's out," he moved for the window. He could hear Allan fumbling in the dark, and the smell was growing stronger. "Put it out."

"It is out," Allan responded quickly. Robin turned to him, his brow furrowing. He knew smoke could accumulate after a fire was doused, but hardly was it ever this strong, and never from just a torch. Just then his eyes caught the faintest of glows, the wood in front of him turning red. He felt his stomach sink.

"We have to leave, now."

"No way," Allan protested, coming up near him. "He didn't set it on fire, did he?"

Robin was quickly moving away from the window, where the flames were already coming through. It wouldn't be long before the entire place was engulfed in flames. And if the fire didn't kill them, then Gisborne would. Soon enough the villagers would be awakened by the commotion, and their master wouldn't be long in following. If they somehow managed to escape, Gisborne's lot would be waiting.

The fire was already making way in under the window, flames licking into the air. Robin turned quickly, searching out the area in the growing light, looking for another way out. He grasped his sword, pulling it free in exchange for his bow. They might have to try and break their way out. Easier said than done. This was built by Dan, Will's father. The craftsmanship here was not easily destroyed.

"This way," he moved, heading towards the back. Smoke was filling the air, making it difficult to see, but the door was easy to find. This was where supplies had been loaded, and carted away. Robin laid a hand against it, pushing it open. It didn't even budge.

"That's not going to work," Allan warned him once seeing what he was trying to do. "Gisborne had me board everything up, remember?"

"Of course you had to do a thorough job," Robin snapped, thrusting his shoulder into the door. He grimaced at the pain, stepping back as he rubbed his shoulder. He lifted his sword just then, bringing it above his head, and then down with a resounding smack. It did little to chip away the wood that stood in the way of their departure. It was a sword, not a hatchet.

The fire was burning more than ever now, already consuming the front part of the building. Soon they would be surrounded, and dealing with Gisborne would be the least of their worries. Robin backed up further, before turning back to the door. This was their only chance, the one way out. They had to break through.

"Wait," Allan called to him suddenly, grabbing him by the shoulder. "The roof!"

"I know," Robin responded, frowning. It too was starting to take flame. The structure would not be able to support it for long. It would collapse, given time.

"That's our way out," Allan was pointing upwards. Robin turned to look. It was difficult to see anything, but then he spied where the man was pointing. A small hole in the rafters, where damage from the storms had torn away the thatching.

"If I can reach it, then we can get out," Allan was moving to stand underneath it. "Robin, help me up."

"So you can go, and leave me behind?" Robin questioned him.

"I'll pull you through once I'm up."

"How do I know you're not going to just run off, like you did the last time?"

"Just trust me, for once," the man cried, shaking his head. "Why does everything have to be an argument? We don't have time for this; you just have to trust me."

Robin knew what he was saying was true, the smoke so heavy now it was getting hard to see let alone breathe. The room had warmed up, and almost was unbearable. Robin shook his head in frustration, sheathing is sword, and cupping his hands.

Allan wasted little time in stepping in them, holding onto Robin's shoulders as he stood, lifting his hands. Robin grunted under the weight, doing his best to stay still, and hold him upright as the man gathered his balance, and began reaching upward. It felt like forever, like they were getting nowhere, when suddenly the weight lessened. Debris from above began to fall, straw and wood, being pulled loose as Allan wriggled through the hole above. Robin could barely see him through all the haze, but his silhouette was there one moment, and then it was gone completely.

His mind screamed at him. Warned him that what he had just done was wrong. That he was a fool. He couldn't trust Allan. The man had already showed him that, and more than once. Now he was going to die because of it. The smoke was getting thicker, causing him to cough, and fall to one knee. The air was clearer down here, but only just, and the fire was spreading quickly. He would have to try the door again. It was his only chance, and Robin knew he would not be able to break through.

Suddenly something hit him. At first he suspected it was more of the roof, that it was finally collapsing due to the instability, but it was small, thin and somewhat heavy. Robin grasped it carefully once he realized it hadn't fallen all the way. Instead it was just hanging there, suspended, like it was still attached to the roof…

"Robin? Grab the rope!"

He did, without hesitation and began to climb. The coarse fibers bit into his flesh as he clutched it tightly between his hands, pushing and pulling a little at a time. Inch by inch he made his way up, the smoke threatening to choke him, fire beginning to lick at his skin he was that close. Part of him felt he would never make it, that he was only getting further away, when a hand reached out, and grabbed him.

Fresh air greeted him and Robin coughed as Allan pulled him through the hole. It was considerably larger now, Allan having broken through the worst of it when he had gone through. Where the rope had come from, Robin couldn't say, but he was glad it was there. But their worries weren't over, not in the least.

Around them they could see the villagers, running amok in attempt to quell the blaze. Robin could see Gisborne at one end, could hear the man shouting out orders. And here they were, still trapped on the roof, with the flames only growing. They would not be able to save the building. They would be lucky to save themselves.

"Robin," Allan called to him, motioning with a hand. Robin followed his lead, keeping close to the roof, crawling awkwardly to the end. Here the fire hadn't reached, the villagers were not concerned, and Gisborne was not paying attention. Allan went first, hanging his legs over the edge of the roof, and pushing himself off. He landed on the ground below, crouching first, before moving away and motioning for Robin to follow. Robin mimicked him, and quickly headed for the forest, knowing that they could do little for the villagers at the moment.

**TBC**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve **

He wasn't aware that he had fallen asleep until he was woken. Groggy, and unaware of what was going on around him, it took Will a moment to figure out what he had heard. This time, the sound was more distinct, coming from outside of the camp. He wasn't the only one who had heard it either.

Quickly he slid out from his bedroll, stretching as he made his way across the camp. Djaq was already at the entrance, and he knelt down near her, questioning her as he did so. "Is it Robin?"

The woman shook her head, "I do not think so, though I had hoped it was. The footsteps, they are heavy. Whoever it is, they are not used to traveling in the forest."

Will nodded, understanding now what she meant. They were slow, awkward, as though the person might know where they were headed, but not entirely certain. It gave him cause for concern. Robin had been gone most the night, headed to Locksley to learn what he could. The rest of them had stayed here, going about their day, despite the anxiety between them all. Even Much had busied himself, trying to forget about all that had happened. Only Allan had left, unsure of if he should stay, or if Robin even would want him to.

Will turned his focus outside, hoping he might get a glimpse of whoever it might be. There was no worry on his part; the camp was well hidden, and there would be little chance of an intruder finding them. Still he wanted to know, and was curious to why one would be wandering the forest so late at night.

"Where did you go the other night?"

He pulled back, turning to face Djaq. She was watching him, concern in her face.

"I…" he started, but fell short, lost for words. He still wanted to keep everything a surprise. His gift wasn't finished, and he wanted it perfect.

"I know it wasn't you, but I do not know what to think. It was Allan first, and he would not talk with me. Now you will not talk with me, and people blame you for the fires."

"You think I am responsible?" Will wondered, feeling hurt at that accusation. It was hardly bearable with Robin; understandable, but still unwanted. This was even worse, and he found himself lost for words.

"I think you are hiding something, and I want to help," she told him quietly. "I don't want to lose you too."

He let out a small laugh, shaking his head. Of course he should have known. There was little he could hide from her. But his decision was still the same. He wanted it to remain a surprise. At the same time, he owed her some explanation. He couldn't leave her to worry like this.

"There is something," he finally decided on how he would explain it. "I can't tell you, not yet. But when things are straightened out…I can show you."

Djaq was quiet, seemingly unsure as how to take this new bit of information. Finally she nodded, forcing a smile as she watched him. "You promise me, Will Scarlet?"

"I promise," he answered quickly. There wasn't time to say anything else. The person outside was coming closer, coming right for them, now with a purpose. It had to be Robin, what with the way they were moving. Will moved closer to the edge of camp, peering through gaps. Then he found himself frowning, and quickly he reached up, pulling of the lever that raised the roof.

"Marian?"

She had stepped back, a hand resting against her chest, startled by the sudden movement. Will headed out, greeting her, inviting her back in. It was earlier they had sent her and her father on their way, providing them with money and provisions to ensure a safe journey. He was surprised to see her, and even had a bad feeling that something somewhere had gone wrong. Why else would she have returned so soon?

"Forgive me," she apologized, "I didn't mean to come at such an odd hour."

"You're always welcome here," Will reassured her. "What is it, what has happened?"

"Nothing," she answered, glancing around the camp. "My father and I are fine. We have some friends, they are taking care of him, but I wanted to see Robin."

"He is not here," Djaq told her. "We have been waiting, but he has not come back from Locksley."

"No one is worried about this?" she wondered.

"I am," Much declared, still half asleep. He let out a yawn. "What are we worrying about?"

"Something about Robin," John answered tiredly. He too had been woken in all the commotion.

"Robin?" Much was more awake now, stumbling to his feet. "Why? What's wrong with Robin?"

"Nothing is wrong."

Will turned, feeling a sigh of relief as he heard the other man. Robin was just coming through the last of the trees, into the clearing just before the edge of camp. There was surprise on his part to see that Allan was following, and that both men looked disheveled. But despite the worn expression on his face, Robin smiled when he saw their visitor.

"Marian?"

"Robin," she was already moving towards him, bringing him into an embrace that was returned. Will stood where he was a moment, before he turned to head back into camp. He wanted to know what Robin had learned, but he felt that would come later. Robin would want to spend his time with Marian.

* * *

Robin did not hesitate to draw her into his arms. It was a relief to know she was okay. He trusted his men had done as he had bade, and had seen her to safety, but he also knew there were a number of things that could have happened in her travels. He held her close, nose buried in her hair as he rested his head against hers. They stayed like that for a time, relishing in each other's embrace, and Robin pressed a kiss against her forehead before they parted.

"How is your father?"

"Tired," she responded, trying to force a smile. "The journey was hard on him, but he's resting now. We ran into some friends just beyond the forest. They're taking us in, at least until we can find a place of our own."

He was glad to hear that, but at the same time it upset him. He didn't like the thought of her leaving, of finding somewhere else to stay where he would not be able to see her. Robin wanted to ask her to stay, to have her fight by his side. But she would never leave her father, and Robin knew his worry would never end if she took up residence in the forest.

"I heard there was a second fire at Locksley," Marian told him quietly as they walked a ways from the camp. Robin nodded in response, grimacing.

"There was a third tonight."

"Another?" she sounded surprised. "Well, it must stop. We must find whoever it is, and stop them. I'll help you."

"There is no need," Robin told her as he came to a stop. "It was the old smith shop, I…Allan and I found out who is responsible already." He didn't bother explaining that they had been caught in the fire as well. Though he suspected it might be evident, given the state of his clothes, the heavy smell of smoke and residue of ashes that still clung to him. Yet she might believe he had only been near, and not inside, while the blaze had burned.

"Allan is helping you then?" she smiled at him. "I figured he might."

Robin shrugged, glancing back over to the camp where the others were waiting, still watching. He knew he owed them an explanation. Even now he wasn't sure what would come of Allan. Robin let out a sigh, turning back to Marian. "Come, I have to talk to my men."

She took his hand, walking arm and arm with him as they worked their way back. They had not gone a long way, and soon they were both inside the camp. Robin took the food that was offered, eating a bit, as he gathered his thoughts. He was still shaken from the fire, but more so by what had taken place after.

There had been every intention of leaving Locksley behind. The fire could do little harm, and the distraction was what Robin needed. But he had stayed, why even now he could not stay. He had seen the fire burn until the building collapsed, had seen villagers try desperately to quench the flames. And he had seen Mathew taken captive. Gisborne must have seen him running, must have figured out all the clues. There was no trial for him. And Robin had not had the time to try and save him before the boy had been run through.

The thought made him ill. He stopped what he was eating, putting the plate aside. Mathew, he knew, was not innocent. He had killed before, had tried to kill others, had tried to kill him. The boy had also made it clear that he would not stop in his endeavors. Perhaps it was better this way, but no matter how many times Robin said it, he still not could convince himself.

"Locksley won't have any more problems," Robin finally said quietly, unsure of how else to say it. He knew it was a good thing, that people would no longer have to be afraid. It would also be a good thing for them to start to trust him and the gang again.

"You know who did it?" Will was the most excited, sitting up in order to hear better.

Robin nodded. "You were right, Bennet was trying to scheme again. The man he killed was Walter Stern. His grandson, Mathew, was the one setting fires."

"Why would he kill innocents?" Djaq wondered quietly.

"It wasn't intentional. He was blinded by grief; he made a mistake."

"So what do we do?" Will wondered.

"Nothing," Allan was the one to respond. He too had seen the entire thing unfold, and had been quiet since. Robin had a feeling he was bothered by it as well. It had taken a lot of will power to not come up with some condescending remark on their way back here.

"Mathew's dead," Robin confirmed. "He was killed by one of Gisborne's men."

The others were quiet at this revelation. Robin had nothing more to add, simply sitting down, worn out from everything that had happened that day. He looked up only when he felt a hand on his shoulder, smiling a little as Marian sat near him. He grasped her hand, moving in to kiss her. There was something else on his mind, something he had been wondering ever since he had seen her when he and Allan had returned to the camp. Now he wanted to know, but was almost afraid to ask.

"Will you stay?"

She looked taken aback and was about to answer, but Robin cut her off, clarifying what he meant. "I meant tonight. Will you stay for tonight?"

Marian closed her mouth, her lips curving up into a smile as she nodded. "I will."

* * *

She woke that morning alone, realizing after a moment that it was well into mid-day. Marian hadn't realized how tired she had been, and there was a hint of guilt resting on her conscience when she realized her father was most likely worrying about her. Still, there was little regret she had in staying.

She and Robin had spent some time talking, before finally giving into the slumber that was seemingly hitting them both heavily. Robin had shared his bed, but nothing had happened. Nothing _could _happen, she reminded herself. Marian knew that she could not stay here. It was not her life, and she could not abandon her father, no matter how much she wanted to remain.

For a few more minutes she stayed where she was, relishing in the feel of the rough fabric that pressed against her cheek, inhaling the scent that lingered on them. What she would give if she could wake like this every morning…

She was no fool. Life in the forest could not be easy, and was nothing compared to her stay in Knighton, or even the castle. Perhaps it fared better than the time she had been held in the dungeons, but even that had not lasted for very long. Even if she did stay, what could she even expect out of it? It was not as though she and Robin could live the life they both envisioned. Instead they would always fall short of expectation, and surely frustrations would arise. She worried too much about him, and Robin would not stop in his endeavors simply because she requested he do so. And neither did she want to. Robin was perhaps the greatest hope Nottingham had at the current moment, at least until the King returned.

Slowly she forced herself up, gathering her cloak around her as she made her way out of the camp. The others were already gone, but where to, she could not say. Part of her felt betrayed for having been left behind, but surely Robin knew she would return to her father, and had not wanted to wake her.

It was to her surprise then to see the group when she came out into the clearing. A fire was going in the center, something cooking over the flames, while they were busy hauling bags out of nearby cart. The horse they had acquired grazed lazily on fresh foliage, seemingly unaware that it was somewhere it should not be, and Robin himself was in the back of the cart, tossing more bags out to his men. John caught two of them mid-air, before turning to take them to one of several piles they had going.

"What is going on?"

"Food from our stores," Much answered, coming up from behind her. He stopped near her, placing his hands on his waist as he let out a sigh. "We thought, well Robin thought that it would be a good idea for us to bring Locksley some food. With the fires and everything, I mean."

Marian nodded. The fires would have taken a toll on the people, and no doubt the sheriff was taxing them for it all, despite the fact they had no control over what had taken place. She let out a smile, crossing the clearing to the side of the cart, watching as he handed out the last of the bags.

"It would be easier to leave everything on here, and just take this to town, don't you think?"

Robin gave her a sideways glance before he jumped down, brushing the dirt off his leggings. "It's all the food we have. I want to see how much we can give. Locksley is not the only village who may grow hungry until we're able to fill our stores again."

This made sense, and she nodded in understanding. There were several piles going in the clearing, ones she assumed that were for the different villages, and even some for the gang as well. Marian turned back to him. "When will you take it to them?"

"Soon," Robin answered. "Gisborne has returned to the castle, no doubt to inform the sheriff of what has transpired. The villagers are being taxed for the losses," he shook his head.

"Then they will be grateful to see you," she answered him. Robin hesitated.

"They did not receive us so well the last time we were there. And Will…they handed him over to the sheriff. The villagers need the food, but I do not know if I can risk bringing my men."

"Allan, you mean?" she glanced back over to where the man was. It seemed as though he had never left, having gotten rid of his black attire, now clad in the forest greens and browns of his old cover. He was making conversation with the others, some of it strained, but she could see the mirth behind his eyes. For the others, it must feel odd to have the man back with them, after knowing all that had happened. She turned back to Robin, finding that the man was watching Allan as well.

"I told him he could return," Robin said quietly after a moment. When he did not continue, Marian prompted him.

"And?"

Robin let out a sigh, shaking his head. "I do not know if it was a wise decision."

"I think he knows he's made mistakes," Marian answered. "Can you ever say that you haven't had any faults?"

He glared at her, his expression hard. "I never deliberately sold someone out."

"But you have made choices that you've later regretted," she reminded him. "About the war? About…us?"

He looked wounded at her last comment but his glare softened into a pained expression. Marian stepped closer to him, grasping his hand in hers. Slowly he let her take it, before drawing her into a hug. She let him hold her, all the while continuing her earlier thought.

"Allan knows what he's done is wrong. But people can change, Robin. You should know that more than anyone. He's willing to make amends."

She pulled back from him, looking to see if he agreed. Robin was still quiet, his expression unreadable, but finally he nodded. "I'm just glad you are safe."

"And you have Allan to thank for that. Had he not gone like I said, then you wouldn't have known what had happened to me."

He started, watching her. "You told Allan to leave?"

"When we were caught, yes," Marian knew she should have told him this earlier. Part of her wanted Robin to figure things out on his own however. "I knew one of us had to get help. And Guy was more interested in catching the Nightwatchman."

She let out a sigh of her own, the memory stinging. "I had hoped that I had reached him enough, to persuade him differently. I guess you were right about him. I was a fool to think otherwise."

Robin had long argued that there was no good in Guy. Marian knew part of that reason was because he only saw the bad part of the man. Her time in the castle had given her a chance to know Guy better, and she had seen, or at least thought she had seen, a different side of the man. But perhaps she was blinded by her own folly.

"I had a run in with him," Robin told her suddenly. "Gisborne, back after you and your father had gone with my men."

Marian watched him, knowing there was more to it. She knew Robin had stayed behind, and her mind gave some ideas as to why, but she particularly didn't want to think about them. Marian knew she should be grateful that what could have happened, did not take place.

"What happened?"

"Nothing," Robin shook his head, but when Marian did not accept this for an answer, he continued. "He wanted for me to tell you that he had paid for your safe passage to Kirkless."

"To the Abbey?"

She wasn't sure what surprised her more. That Guy had actually done so, or the fact that Robin was telling her about it. "Why?"

"Gisborne knows you're in league with me," came the explanation. "I guess he finally came to his senses, once he learned you were the Nightwatchman."

"I could tell him differently," Marian said suddenly, coming up with the idea. "I could go to him, tell him that is where I went, that the Nightwatchman was only to help out the poor, that it had nothing to do with you-"

"Marian," Robin's voice was hard, stopping her in midsentence. "The only way you would have gone to the Abbey is if I told you. Gisborne told no one else. Besides, even if Gisborne does believe you, the sheriff will not. And the sheriff is one person Gisborne cannot control."

Slowly she nodded. That she knew was true. Why she had even thought about staying, about returning the castle, was beyond her. Part of her wondered if she honestly did not want to leave. Going to the castle would mean imprisonment again, a solid reason to why she had to stay away from there. Marian knew it was time to leave, to go back to her father before these silly notions began to truly fester.

"I should be going."

"You could stay," Robin invited her. Marian gave him a small smile.

"You know that I cannot. My father is most likely already worried for me. I should not keep him waiting."

"Will you come back?" he wondered.

Marian hesitated, before nodding. "Once we are settled in, and I know my father is doing well enough on his own, I will visit."

"But you won't stay?"

Marian was unsure of what to say. She wanted to, desperately so, but there were other obligations she had to take care of first. "When the king returns, and England is right again. I fear we may be too distracted until then."

He seemed disappointed, but Robin accepted the answer, pulling her into one last embrace. They parted with a kiss, and Marian knew that Robin was watching her even as she made her way across the forest. She did not look back, fearing that she would not be able to go on if she did so.

One day the king would return. One day they would be together. But today was not that day.

**TBC**


	13. Chapter 13

**And So this is the last chapter. Enjoy!**

**Chapter Thirteen**

They left for Locksley in the afternoon. Will had wanted to go earlier, but Robin had reminded him about being patient. They had taken their time in dividing the supplies, storing what they would distribute at the other villages, and taking the rest with them. Food was not the only thing they had managed to find. Robin had come up with some silver; where, Will would never know. But he was happy to see that it was there.

The money would come in good, to help with the rebuilding for those who had lost their homes. Maybe he could even assist them with that part, knowing the craftsmen skill himself. He had a feeling Robin would not like that idea, and so had yet to bring it up. Will knew it would be risky with Gisborne venturing in and out of the village all the time. Still, he wanted to do what he could to help the people of Locksley.

Ahead of him, Robin and Much led the way. Allan was close by, carrying his own share. It was good to see him returned; Will felt as though he owed the man something for what had taken place while at Nottingham. Allan could have hurt him, had the chance to, but had chosen against it. That alone showed there was still some good in him.

He turned as Djaq caught up with him, shouldered with a few more bags. He knew she carried more herbs and bandages than she did food. Once at Locksley, she would see to it that anyone needing assistance, was able to receive it. It made him think of the present once more, the gift he had made for her. Was still making…

"Are you nervous?"

He shook his head, "Why would I be?"

"They did not trust you last time," Djaq answered quietly.

Will felt himself grimace at the memory. "True, but they did not know. Now they do. Why should they still be angry?"

"What if Gisborne still has blamed you for the earlier fires?"

This brought him to a stop, not wanting to believe what she had just said, but he knew it was all too possible. Neither Gisborne nor the sheriff would be too keen on clearing his name just for the sake of what was moral. It would serve them better to keep the villagers afraid and wary of accepting the outlaw's help.

"Keep moving. We still have to reach Locksley before it gets dark," John reminded them as he came by. He had been following them, but did not stop as he walked on by.

Will slowly started walking when he saw Djaq was waiting for him too. He took a breath, shaking off the eerie feeling. "It will be alright. Robin is with us."

"I hope it will be," she agreed quietly, keeping pace with him. Will silently prayed it would be. Robin alone could not stand up to an angry village. Even all of them together could not do so. But they were bringing offerings of food, money and medicine. How could they be angry?

He tried to rationalize, to tell himself that everything would be fine. But the closer they got to Locksley, the worse he began to feel. Robin had come to a stop on the hill that overlooked the village, and soon they were all standing side by side, waiting for the signal that would send them in.

"Well, we came all this way," Allan remarked tiredly. "Are we going to go in, or just stay up here?"

"Will?" Robin called to him, catching his eye. "Are you ready?"

He paused, surprised by the question. He had not voiced his concerns to anyone. If Robin knew he was edgy, or simply guessed he would be, Will couldn't say. But now everyone was waiting for him to answer, and so feebly he nodded. When no one moved, he took the first few steps down the hill.

Locksley seemed barren, empty without all the houses that used to be here before. None of the mess had yet been cleared, charred remains piled up in three different places. The most recent of fires was evident, smoke still billowing up gently from the collapsed pile.

Many of the villagers were outside already, working their gardens or feeding the livestock that remained. Some were attempting to start with the mess, but stopped as they saw the group approaching. Those who were still inside found their way out, but no one made a move, no one said anything. Robin came to a stop in the center of town, setting his supplies down. The others followed suit, slowly backing away, keeping the villagers in their line of sight in case things went ill.

Will felt his heart pounding and his mouth somewhat dry as he caught sight Harold, the man who who had attacked him earlier. It almost felt as though he took a step closer to Robin, as if seeking some sort of protection. But it had been Robin who had stepped up near him, pressing something into his hands. Will clutched the purse tightly, finally breaking his gaze with the man to see what it was he held. The silver. Robin had given him the silver.

He glanced back to where Robin was, the man having taken a step back. He gave a nod, and Will turned back up front, meeting Harold's gaze. The gaze was softer this time, one of shame almost, like that of a child who had been caught doing something wrong. Will swallowed, and moved to step forward, understanding now what it was that Robin was waiting for him to do.

"I am sorry," Harold was the first to speak. "We were wrong about what we thought. I am glad to see you made it out safe enough."

"And we are sorry for what has happened here," Will fumbled with the words. He was not one to speak in front of crowd like this, and it made him all the more nervous. He glanced down at the purse, clutching it tightly, regaining his courage.

"We've brought food, for everyone. We know it will be hard…harder than it normally is. And we've brought this," he held out the purse, waiting for Harold to take it.

"It's for rebuilding for what was lost. The sheriff…I'm sure you've heard…"

"Yes," Harold cut him off, holding the purse in his hand. "You can do no more for that than we can. Thank you."

He nodded in return, tensing as someone laid a hand on his shoulder. Robin had come up from behind, carrying a satchel of food. "We don't have much, but there is enough for everyone," he was pulling the first of the bread out, offering it up to the others that stood nearby.

Will was more than grateful to take a step back, feeling even more relieved as Djaq gave him a small hug. She was smiling, and he returned it, before pulling away to grab another bag of food. He went to those still standing at the side of their houses, beckoning for them to come forward. Behind him, Djaq was pulling out her supplies, offering her own skill. It wasn't long before the spirits were high, and merriment spreading with the good fortune. Soon, it was as though nothing ill between them had taken place. And that was how Will preferred it.

* * *

They had given the food out at Locksley, had seen to it that the silver given would be put to good use. Djaq had heard how Will's father was the one who built most of the village. But since then, it was Harold who had taken over constructing and maintaining the village. He had sworn he would see to it that those who had lost their homes would receive new ones.

They had stayed for a time, had met with the villagers and had shared the food before they started to pull back towards the forest. Gisborne was not expected that night, but Robin was wary, and one of the firsts to leave. Djaq stayed a little longer, only because Will did, and followed when the man took his leave.

For a while they walked side by side, not saying anything, the sounds of the forest surrounding them. Will seemed more relaxed now than he did before, and Djaq was just glad that things at Locksley had gone well. She was not sure what they would have done if the villagers there had greeted them with hostility. Even now she had a difficult time in believing that they had captured Will before, and handed him over to Gisborne. Luck was with them that they saw fit to bring Will back to the castle, instead of killing him as they had done to the arsonist.

Will came to a stop when he found her watching him, a questioning expression on his face. Djaq let out a smile, unable to stand it any longer. "Will you tell me now?"

At first he seemed almost to protest, to say that he did not know what she was talking about. But he fumbled in his words, and she knew that he was aware of what she was asking. But would he tell her? Djaq knew he did not have any part in the fires, but not where he had been going. What was so important that he had gotten himself in trouble over?

"I can't tell you," he finally said, casting a disappointment in her. "I have to show you," he held out his hand eagerly, and she felt herself smile as she took it, wondering what he was up to. As soon as she had his hand, he took off at a quick pace, one she was easily able to match, but at the same time it only heightened her curiosity. What was he doing?

They were going away from the main trail now, the one that led to camp, following a different one instead, going further into the forest. Djaq wondered what the others would think, or if they would even care. She had no notion as to where they were going, or how long it would take them to get there. Soon, Will's hurried paced slowed a little, but Djaq didn't know if it was either from fatigue, or due to the path becoming more strenuous .

Still, he held onto her hand, guiding her as they came back to the North Road. He paused, long enough to make sure it was clear, and then crossed, still pulling her along. This way they walked, for many more minutes, and by the time they started to slow, night had fallen completely. He let go of her hand near a tree, and she leaned against it, wondering why they had come all this way.

Will had gone up ahead, but hadn't motioned for her to follow. She was able to see just his silhouette, moving in the darkness as he knelt, fumbling on the ground. Djaq could hear flint, stone striking, and soon the fire could be seen. He tended to it, until it was burning on its own, and he motioned for her to come over.

He was near another tree, one with a hollow base that he was reaching inside of. With a little bit of effort, he pulled something free just as she knelt. Balancing the item on his knees, the man ran his fingers over the box-like shape, studying it quietly. Whatever it was, it had been well protected, wrapped in cloth, and secured with a fine bit of rope to keep it sealed. She had heard of treasures before, but only in stories. And if it was a treasure, why was he hiding it, instead of sharing the fortune with those who needed it more?

"I've been working on this for a while," he told her quietly, still not looking at her. "I had planned…well, hoped really, that it would have been finished before…"

"Before what?"

He said nothing, instead looking up at her after a moment. His hand was still resting against the rope that secured it. She held his gaze for a time, and he turned away.

"I…it's something I've made," he stuttered a little, and it caused her to smile.

"You've already told me that," Djaq reminded him. "What is it?"

"It's…well, it's yours. I mean, not something that was yours, I…I made it for you, that's what I meant."

He was blushing now, something she could see even in the night. It was a heartfelt gesture, and Djaq was unsure of how exactly to respond. Of course she felt for Will, had feelings for him. She always had. But never did she suspect that he felt the same, or that anything could happen between them. Will still had not met her gaze, and she had a feeling he was still too embarrassed to try.

"Will you show me?"

"Um…yeah," he responded quickly, but he was slower in doing so. He was careful to untie the bindings, and moved to unfold it, but then paused. "Maybe you should…"

Carefully he held it out to her, moving to sit down against the tree. It was of good weight in her hands, and Djaq set it on the ground to unfold the cloth. Beneath it was a simple wooden box with a lid, one she opened to reveal empty compartments. Her fingers ran over the wood lightly, noting the strength and the workmanship that had gone into it.

"I had wanted to do more," Will explained quickly. "It was supposed to be a surprise, but…it doesn't matter I guess. You don't have to use it, I just thought it might be nice, since you're always making remedies and such, to have someplace to put them all. Keep them together…I know it's ridiculous, I shouldn't have bothered-"

"No," Djaq cut him off before he could go on, the man being so flustered now he had no idea of what he was saying. "It is nice, Will Scarlet. You made this for me?"

"It wasn't anything, really," he confessed. "Just for, well. You've been here for a long time now, for almost a year, I thought it would be nice-"

He had done all of this for her. It was more than any man had ever done for her before. She felt herself smile as she rose to her feet, moving to his side. He looked up at her as she did so, and Djaq leaned forward, catching his lips against hers.

He was surprised, but did not hesitate and returned the kiss. It was short and brief, but wonderful. As she pulled away, a smile formed on her face at his perplexed expression. But then he smiled, the relief in his features evident. Djaq stood, offering a hand to help him up as well. He took it without question, stealing yet another kiss from her. This, she knew, was something she could get used to. How the others would take it, she could not say. She, herself, still did not know how things would turn out.

Djaq moved away, long enough to pick up the box that was still on the ground, wrapping it back up in the cloth to see that it was protected, placing it under one arm.

"We should leave it here," Will suggested, causing her to frown. He had given it to her, and now he wanted to take it away?

"What for? It does me no good here."

"Well, it's not finished yet," he explained, then smiled, "And it would give us a reason to come back…"

Djaq smiled in return, before she passed the box along to him. It would be a shame to take it before it was done. Will set it back in the base of the tree, making sure it was secure before he turned to put out the fire. They would have to return to camp soon, but they still had time before they would be missed. And Djaq was certain they could find something to do to occupy their time here.

**The End**


End file.
